


2 am

by theraincanttouchus



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Artist Kisara, Artist Mokuba, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Drama & Romance, Euthanasia, F/M, Flashbacks, Idk why I like to hurt Kisara when I like her so much, Kisara and bakura friendship, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Canon, kaiba seto and Jounouchi Katsuya friendship, kisara's a little bit moody in the first chapter but it gets better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:22:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7248295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theraincanttouchus/pseuds/theraincanttouchus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seto decides to visit his little brother, Mokuba, a week before the kid's first exhibition on an art museum. He's planning on fixing everything that he broke when Mokuba left for college.<br/>What Seto didn't plan was to find his ex-girlfriend Kisara, who disappeared from his life without a word seven years ago, as Mokuba's roommate and BFF.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hello

**Author's Note:**

> If I said I was truly over you, my heart would say amen, but I give into the cold caress of 2am, if I admit I can’t get used to this, would my heart break again? As I fall into the waiting arms of 2am.  
> -Alexz Johnson

_They say that time’s supposed to heal you_

_But I ain’t done much healing_

_-Adele_

**MARCH, 2016**

Seto sighs, the last cold of the year makes his breath fog in front of him. He runs a hand through his hair. He looks down at his baggage, a blue cylindrical duffel with white strings and a white KC logo on the side, and his suitcase. The duffel’s not that big, he only packed the necessary for four days, five tops. He isn’t planning on staying too long, nor is he expecting being welcome, but that’s something Seto’s trying not to think about right now.

His fingers are cramped from the too strong hold he’s clutching the suitcase with. It would fall from his sweaty hand, otherwise. Seto rakes his free hand through his hair, again, silently wondering whether this was actually a good idea.

His eyes stay trained on the door in front of him. 303 it reads in shiny, yellow letters.

This is ridiculous, he’s Seto Kaiba, CEO of one of the biggest companies in Japan and he shouldn’t be nervous about just visiting his little brother. He rolls his eyes at his own silliness and knocks the door.

“I’m coming,” Mokuba’s grave voice says. Seto purses his lips, he almost doesn’t recognize it anymore, not outside of a camera or a phone at least.

And when Mokuba opens the door, Seto can’t help but stare. Mokuba’s grown taller, almost reaching Seto’s height now, he’s also grown broader. But his face is still just as kind; friendly, open eyes stare back at him, wide to the point where it’s almost comical.

“Seto?” Mokuba breathes. His face splits in a smile a second after and, before Seto knows what’s going on, he’s being pulled into a hug. “Brother, I didn’t know you were coming.” He holds Seto at arm's length, grin still in place.

Seto exhales, shoulders sagging. He’d been anxious that Mokuba would still be angry, even after all their talks over the phone and skyping sessions, Seto wasn’t sure if an unannounced visit would be well received, not after how they parted.

He smiles at Mokuba and Mokuba takes a step back “Come in, I was just making dinner,” he says, walking into the apartment. Seto follows him, closing the door behind.

He eyes the inside, the living room is big and welcoming; a big couch, a loveseat and a sofa point to the screen on the side wall, all of them black and blue. There’s a big balcony on the wall opposite to the door and a dining table next to the couches. The kitchen is next to the table. There are two doors on each wall, bedrooms Seto thinks.

He waits on the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do.

“Oh, sorry,” Mokuba says upon noticing him “you can leave your things on the couch.” his little brother cocks his head to the side “Why do you have so many things?”

Seto shrugs “Your first exhibition in a gallery is this wednesday.” he says as nonchalantly as he can. He’s sure he fails.

Mokuba closes and opens his mouth before running to Seto and giving him another bone crushing hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the best.”

“It’s a slow season, it isn’t that big of a deal.” Seto straightens his coat after Mokuba releases him.

Mokuba rolls his eyes “Yeah, right. I’m still grateful, ok?” He turns to the kitchen again “Man, this is going to be awesome. How long are you staying by the way?”

“Until your exhibition I’ll leave the next day.”

“Oh” Mokuba turns after turning off the stove “Were you planning on staying here?” he eyes the bags that lay on the couch.

“Not really, there’s a hotel near here.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” his younger brother corrects quickly “I mean, I’d love to have you here, but, as you know, I’m not living alone. But I could totally ask my roommate is you want.”

Seto shakes his head. “No, it’s fine.” He doesn’t know anything about Mokuba’s roommate, it’s never been an important subject to them. The only thing he knows is that it’s a kind girl who gave Mokuba a place to stay for free while he didn’t have a dime. Seto still feels awful about it, so that also contributes to them not talking about her.

Mokuba rattles the cabinets looking for something “No, I don’t think Kisara will care if you stay in my room, she’s cool like that.”

Seto stares at Mokuba, and stares, and stares some more, because, what? He’s devanning his brain trying to understand what the kid just said, or at least to get his lungs to remember how to draw air again.

He stares at Mokuba, hearing one of the pots whistle, letting the sound settle on his ears. He stares until Mokuba’s face no longer has shape or sense.

“What?” he asks breathlessly.

“Is there something wrong?” Mokuba asks puzzled.

“Who…” Seto clears his throat “Mokuba I’m sure your roommate will mind,” he asks, because, surely he must’ve misheard, right?

“Kisara? Nah, she’s great, you know. Really kind, chill, loving. I’m sure she won’t mind. Now make yourself comfortable while I finish with this.”

Seto slowly sits on the couch behind him.

Now that, that’s something he didn’t see coming, of all the names he thought he’d never, ever hear again, Kisara is on the top of his list. Seto tells himself that it’s not the same person, maybe the girl just have the same name, just because Kisara isn’t a popular name doesn’t mean it’s impossible, right?

He looks at the room, paintings decorate the walls with barely a foot between each other, his eyes zero-in on the one next to the screen. It has blue roses on a vase, the background is on shades of green and barely there orange. He remembers those roses. Remembers how long Kisara’d worked on them and…

_“You work and study, how do you find the time to waste it in this?” Seto asked upon seeing it. He saw Kisara’s face fall after that. She’d had such a huge smile, her eyes gleaming, when she first showed it to him, but her smile faltered and she bit her lips to stop herself from crying._

_Seto regretted it the moment he noticed it. “Is good, though.” He added. It was the closest to an apology he could do back then._

_Kisara beamed at him “Thank you.”_

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Mokuba’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Seto casts him a look before his eyes go back to the painting, which is so much closer now.

He doesn’t remember walking to it.

“Yes, it is.”

“Kisara’s really talented. Can you believe she painted that at eighteen?”

The knob turns with a metallic sound. The door creaks as someone enters.

“I’m home.” It’s the sweetest voice Seto’s ever heard. The voice that used to tell him ‘It’s okay’ every time he was upset. A kind voice. A happy voice. “You’ll never believe the state of the streets. It took me five minutes to get through a block.”

Seto holds his breath, turning slowly to see the source of the voice. He holds his breath as his eyes travel through her body. Kisara at seventeen had been pretty, with big, naïve and innocent eyes and a pure smile. Kisara at twenty six is stunning. Her posture is so self-secure, her hips broader just like her thighs. Her legs are long and she’s so, so breathtaking. Seto holds his breath as his eyes land on her face. She has more angles and her eyes are so big still, but they’re less naive than before. Kisara’s strong looking where she used to be fragile, a grown woman with the energy and kindness of a girl. He holds his breath as he waits for Kisara’s reaction, for her to say something, anything at all.

Kisara blinks rapidly, her mouth moving without actually emitting a sound.

For a moment, Seto believes she’ll have an apoplexy or something along the lines. Her fist clench on the door keys in a painful way but her face doesn’t change; and she’s trembling, like a compressed spring.

“Kisara, this is my brother Seto.” Mokuba says, oblivious to the state of his best friend. He must be too happy about Seto involving himself in Mokuba’s career, a part of Seto’s brain guesses. The rest is too busy trying to come with something, anything. “Brother, this is Asakawa Kisara, my roommate and BFF.” He winks at Seto in complicity.

Kisara’s the one who composes herself first. She walks slowly towards them, holding her bloody keys outwards in some makeshift weapon. Her fist stays shielded by her side so Mokuba can’t see them, but Seto can. She stops at arm’s length “Nice to meet you, Kaiba-kun.” Ouch. Kisara had never called him Kaiba, not even when they’d first met.

Kisara’s eyes sweep him from toe to top and, for a fleeting moment, Seto can’t help but wonder what does she see? Does she see the mean, selfish teenager that she met eight years ago? Does she notice how much Seto has changed the way he does with her? Seto shakes his head, it doesn’t matter; he doesn’t care about what she thinks of him.

Seto swallows “Same thing, Asakawa-san.” Two can play that game, he decides.

Kisara’s left eye twitch, her lips are a thin line. It’s then that Seto snaps out of it, because out of the two of them she’s definitely not the one with the right to be angry. She left him without a single word. To this day Seto wasn’t even sure she was still alive for fuck’s sake!

Seto straightens himself, leaning to get closer without actually stepping forward.

“Come on, there’s no need for titles, you’re both like my family, well Seto is in the literal sense, but that’s irrelevant.” Mokuba puts a hand on both of their shoulders giving them a small squeeze. “How about we sit down and talk while the rice is ready, hmm?”

“Of course.” Seto smiles at Mokuba before turning back to Kisara “After all, that’s what I came for.”

Kisara rolls her eyes “Too little too late, isn’t Kaiba?” she mutters once Mokuba’s back on the kitchen.

Seto clicks his tongue before going to sit on the couch. His name sounds even more wrong without the kun, but he’s not going to let this girl ruin his first week with Mokuba since the kid left for college.

-o-o-o-

**APRIL, 2008**

Finally his senior year had begun, and Seto couldn’t wait to get the hell out of high school. He saw his classmates hugging each other, shrieking excitedly at the prosper of the new year and about their plans for the future.

Seto rolled his eyes. These kids didn’t know what was expecting them. They didn’t know how cruel the outside world really was.

Yugi and Jounouchi bolted through the door “We did it.” Jounouchi yelled, bumping his fist with a breathless Yugi.

Seto glared at them. During the time he didn’t see them, Seto had managed to forget the last year’s events. But now here he was, Yugi Muto, the permanent reminder that he wasn’t the best; that he wasn’t even enough to be the one that put Atem at rest.

“If you keep glaring at Yugi like that you’ll make his hair wilt.” A high voice told him.

Seto arched an eyebrow at the girl beside him. It was a small, pale girl. He hadn’t even noticed when had she sat down. He glared at her.

The girl bit her lip “Sorry, it’s just, well… Never mind.” She waved her hand dismissively with a sheepish smile.

Seto’s eyes travelled through her body. She was thin and fragile-looking. The world would tear her down, he knew. It never let nice, innocent girls stay that way. Her hair was white and long, it shone with the light that crept through the window, engulfing her, strong and unyielding; it reminded Seto of Blue Eyes’ skin. “I’ve never seen you here.”

Kisara jumped at his voice, her hands nervously twirling her hair “Well, you weren’t in school much last year.” she smiled unsure.

Seto nodded. It was true he’d spent most of his time taking care of his company rather than at school, which was why his public imagine was now at risk, because his behavior ‘talked of irresponsibility and negligence’. His eyes landed on her notebook, a drawing of Blue Eyes White Dragon decorated the front “Is that Blue Eyes?”

Kisara perked at that, her hands going to hold her notebook. “Yes, I like the card, it’s…”

“Powerful.” Seto supplied.

Kisara caressed the head “Yes, something like that.”

The teacher arrived before any of them could say more. All the other teachers came and went with less than five minutes between each other, which made impossible to talk more with the girl.

The next time Seto talked to her was at lunch. She’d left to buy something to eat, and the only people remaining in the classroom were Yugi’s gang, minus Bakura who’d also gone for something to eat, and Seto.

Even as the gang chatted he could feel the tension in the air. For them, he was a reminded of everything that had happened just as much as they were for him.

A blue haired girl walked inside “Honda-kun,” she called and the gang turned to her “you guys need to come, Kouno Takahisa and his friends were molesting Bakura-kun and now there’s a fight.”

They sprang from their seats cursing. Seto watched as they ran out of the room with a bored expression, of course it would be them who’d have trouble the first day.

The girl stood there, staring at him.

“Is there something the matter?” Seto asked.

The girl took a step back, even though there were at least six meters between them “You’re friends with Kisara?”

“Who?”

“Asakawa Kisara, she sits beside you. I saw you two speaking.”

Was that all her high-school-girl brain needed to deem them as friends? “Why do you ask?”

“She got between Bakura-kun and Takahisa to defend him. She kind of started the fight.”

Seto got up his seat, his brows drawn together. That girl in a fight? Now that’s something he needed to see.

When he arrived the girl was still between Bakura and a broad guy with a horrible mullet. A blond guy was lying on the floor, holding his crotch and wailing like a wounded animal. There was another one, a black haired teen, next to him, hugging his stomach.

The guy with the mullet- Takahisa- growled at the girl. She just stood there right in front of Bakura.

“You little shit.” He snarled, taking a step closer to the pale couple.

That’s when the gang snapped out of their trance. Both Honda and Jounouchi got in front of the girl while Anzu and Yugi went to Bakura. He was clutching his arm but there didn’t seem to be any other injuries. The pale teen waved them off, focusing on Kisara.

Her blue eyes were glued to the three guys in front of her, there was a bruise forming on her left wrist and another one of her cheek. Seto stepped in with strong steps and clenched fists.

“You’re gonna join us, Kaiba?” Takahisa mocked.

Seto glared at him, not giving him any noticed before his foot collided with the guy’s stomach, sending him to the ground. “Leave.” He ordered.

Takahisa cursed him, his minions appearing at his flanks. They convinced- pleaded- him to leave. Takahisa refused until the blond one whispered something on his ear. They sent a last look at Kisara before fleeting and the girl wrapped her arms around herself.

“You can fight.” Seto stated, eyeing the girl.

Her eyes locked with his and she smiled despite the red mark on her cheek “Thanks for intervening, Seto-kun, he’s stronger than his friends and I wouldn’t have wanted to fight him.”

Seto tilted his head to the left; where he’d have lashed out at anyone who’d stuck their nose on his business; Kisara not only thanked him but also openly admitted she didn’t have things under control. It was puzzling, especially considering that Kisara actually had things under control.

It was the gang gaping at them what made Seto realize that they were standing in the middle of the hallway. He turned to walk towards their classroom and Kisara ran to catch up with him.

-o-o-o-

**MARCH, 2016**

“I didn’t know your brother was coming.” Kisara tells Mokuba, pointedly ignoring Seto.

Mokuba shrugs “Neither did I, he just appeared behind the door.” He says with a grin.

“Well, that’s rather rude.” Kisara’s tone is flat, not giving away anything. It’s so different from when they were younger.

Mokuba snickers “What put you in such a bad mood? Let me guess, Gabriel screwed up the colors again?” Kisara blushes; it makes Mokuba laugh harder “Anyway, yeah, maybe it was a little unannounced but he came to see my exhibition, isn’t that awesome?”

Kisara stares at Seto as if she doesn’t know him. Seto just smirks at her. “I thought you hated art.” Seto tenses under the ice on her tone.

“Yeah, well, people change” He says as emotionless as possible.

For a moment Kisara looks like she’s about to snap, ready to lunge forward and tear him apart, but then, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly “About time, then. I’m glad it wasn’t too late.” She gets up and goes to the kitchen. Seto hears her moving pots and pans.

He stares at the place she'd been occupying before. He's not sure what she meant by that comment, what of all the unfinished matters between them she was talking about and it frustrates him to no end.

“Sorry about that;” Mokuba whispers to him “I don’t know why she’s so angry, but I swear she’s not usually like this.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll take more than a moody girl to get me out of here.” Seto reassures him.

Mokuba’s smile comes back to his face.

Dinner’s a tense trial. They’re both on edge. Their strings are pulled too tight and ready to snap.

Mokuba’s endorphins seem to be back to normal and he’s starting to notice just how tense both of them are. How both eat robotically and don’t look up “Hey Seto!” He says happily, because that’s what Mokuba does, he tries to make people happy. Seto turns to him, trying to look less frustrated than he feels. “Did you know that Kisara used to live in our same town? She even went to your high school. Man, it’s such a shame you never met.”

Mokuba’s too busy longingly staring at the distance to notice how Seto’s fork falls to his plate or how Kisara blanches and how both their eyes are wide. He’s too busy to see the sheer terror on their faces.

Kisara clears her throat. She pushes the food from one side of the plate to the other with her fork “I don’t know about that Mokie, I mean from what you’ve told me your brother didn’t spend that much time in the school so it wouldn’t have made any difference.” She keeps her eyes on her food, a small curve on her lips like she thinks she’s just solved everything.

Seto rolls his eyes, cutting his food into too small pieces. “What would the case be? Either way she’d have come all the way here for college.” And okay maybe he’s a little hurt, but he trusted Kisara with almost everything he had, and she’d disappeared after what had been the best night of Seto’s youth. So sue him for being a little pissed off.

Kisara’s face falls at that.

“Okaaaayyy, it was just a thought…” Mokuba’s eyeing them suspiciously now. “Anyway, Seto told me he was planning on staying on a hotel and I thought ‘why doesn’t he stay here?’ you know. He could sleep in my room with me, if you’re okay with that, that is.”

Kisara scrunches her face, her eyes tightly shut. She retreats her hands and Seto can almost hear her scratching the skin on her forearm. It’s an old habit she used to have and Seto just can’t help but to remember it, even though it doesn’t look like she’s actually doing it right now. Kisara pulls a smile for Mokuba’s sake, which Seto’s truly grateful for “Both of you won’t fit on your bed, Mokie.” She pushes Mokuba’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “No with how big you’ve gotten, anyway.”

Mokuba chuckles at that “Guess not.” He eyes his food, chewing his lip. He looks so disappointed.

Seto sees Kisara’s shoulders slump from the corner of his eye “But, you and I do fit in my bed.” She offers. Mokuba beams at her brighter than the sun ‘ _She’s a light bringer’_ was how Yugi described her.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you and I can stay in my room and your brother can stay in yours for the week. If you think that won’t interfere with your muses.” She teases.

“Hell yeah! See Seto? I told you she was the best.”

This time, when Seto looks at Kisara he sees the old Kisara, His Kisara. He sees the one that would give up her ice cream for a crying child, the one that shared her lunch with whoever needed it. He sees the girl who took time out of her busy day to go to the KC building just to spend time with Seto and make sure he ate, the one who went out of her way to make him feel special.

“So you said.” Seto’s barely able to stop his voice from breaking.

-o-o-o-

Seto takes his laptop from his suitcase and sets it on his lap. He stares at the room as it turns on. There are 12 posters on the wall, some of boys bands, some of what he can only guess are soap operas, some of them are from the museum Mokuba’s presenting in. They stare at him, judging him and everything he’s ever done. It makes his skin itch.

There’s a particular one with a broad man on it. He has long, black hair and is half naked. He holds a trident in his left hand and his too focused eyes make Seto twitch on the bed. He doesn’t know who the man might be, but he has never been uncomfortable with his brother’s sexuality until now.

He shakes his head and focuses on his work rather than everything else.

A square pops up thirty minutes later, notifying him of a message.

“How’s Mokuba?” Seto looks at the blond on the picture, trying to suppress his urge to groan.

“He’s fine.” He sends

“Just ‘fine’? he still angry at u?”

Seto lets his head fall to the wall, if there’s anything that hasn’t changed of Jounouchi is his complete disregard to orthography. “No, he isn’t.”

“Then Y R U so pissy?”

Fuck him! Seto doesn’t deign to reply and Jounouchi lets him be for about five minutes before he texts again “C’mon Kaiba! U obviously itching 2 tell me!”

Seto scowls at the screen but damn if the mutt isn’t right. He’s needs to take the edge off, let out everything he’s been bottling up since he arrived.

So he clicks the video icon.

“Wow, it must be REALLY freaking big for you to do a video call.” Jounouchi says, his eyebrows so high they almost disappear beneath his bangs. There’s a smirk on his lips, though, and Seto’s more than happy to erase it.

“Asakawa Kisara is Mokuba’s roommate.” Seto cuts to the chase.

The tips of his lips curl upwards as Jounouchi’s smirk erases, his jaw falling slack.

“WHAT?!” He screams and Seto’s really happy there’s the living room between him and Kisara’s room.

“Shut up mutt! They’ll hear you.”

“They? Are you staying with them?”

“Yes.”

Jounouchi runs a hand through his hair “Wait, so you’re saying Kisara- your ex-girlfriend Asakawa Kisara- is Mokuba’s roommate?”

“No, you idiot, one of the many other Asakawa Kisaras that I know.”

“Man, small world isn’t it?” Seto crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Hey, at least now you know she’s alive.” Jounouchi offers sheepishly and Seto wonders why did he ever make the call. “Don’t look at me like that, I know you were worried, especially with how Takahisa left town the same week.”

Seto glares harder at the blond. If he’s being honest, yes, he’d been worried about something happening to Kisara, all the more when he discovered that Takahisa had been harassing her and Seto had been the only one who didn’t know.

“Shut up, mutt.”

Jounouchi doesn’t even frown at the name “So, did you talk to her?”

“Obviously.”

Now’s the blond’s turn to roll his eyes “I mean talk about what happened.”

“Don’t be stupid, Mokuba’s here.”

“Wait so, you haven’t told him?” Silence “You moron, it’s been seven years.”

“Exactly it’s been eight years. Why should I talk about something that’s in the past already?”

“Oh no, don’t give ME that ‘the past is the past and has no relevance in the present’ crap of yours, Kaiba. We both know you know better now.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish.”

They stay in silence. The half-naked man glares at him and Seto wishes he’d come the very day of the exhibition instead of trying for some bonding time.

“You could get answers now, you know.” Jounouchi says tentatively “Give it some closure and maybe give your brother the answer he’s been wanting for so long?”

“You should be asleep already.” Seto’s hand moves the pointer to the end button.

Jounouchi gives him a small, sad smile “She’s a good girl, Kaiba. You should at least hear her out.”

Seto ends the call stabbing the mouse over the red button.

He turns off everything and pulls the blankets above his head when turning proves to be ineffective to block the posters.


	2. GRAVITY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember feeling invincible;  
> When there was trouble it was us against the world.  
> -Gravity, Against the Current

**APRIL 2008**

Kisara was soaring. She’d secretly admired Seto Kaiba since the first time she saw him dueling. The power and confident he irradiated amazed her, but it was the passion with which he dueled that truly took her breath away.

And his Blue Eyes White Dragons, too, of course.

Its design was simply mesmerizing; it was the epitome of everything she thought as beautiful and perfect. It inspired her, becoming her muse, when nothing else could.

And now, in the start of her senior year, the last year she’d have to deal with mean words and, way meaner, pranks, she was Kaiba Seto’s acquaintance. Which was more than most people could say.

Yes, she was definitely soaring.

-o-o-o-

Seto didn’t come to classes the next Monday, after an entire first week of attending.

“Took him long.” Jounouchi grunted two seats from Kisara.

“What do you mean?” She said, her eyes narrowing without her consent. She didn’t like antagonizing people, never ended well for her, but the pure annoyance with which the blond had said it irked her.

Jounouchi blinked in surprise.

“Kaiba-kun usually comes only once or twice per week,” Ryo calmly intervened “it’s surprising he attended the whole first week.”

Kisara’s eyes fell to her backpack. _Was it really that unusual?_ A smile slowly crept on her lips _Was it because of me?_ She remembered Seto smiling more and more at her and let herself hope for a second. It was like a lightning bolt, making her feel giddy and happy and vibrant.

“He must be very busy.” She concluded, a little deflated. What Seto did was admirable, taking care of both his little brother and a global corporation at this age.

Jounouchi scoffed “He probably thinks he’s above all of this.”

Kisara full on glared at him “If he truly thought that he wouldn’t even bother to come at all.” She turned her attention to her desk, not wanting to deal with whatever emotions might be reflected on their faces. It was already awful how much responsibilities where placed on Seto’s shoulders, but the fact that he also had to deal with people like Jounouchi who didn’t care about considering all those sacrifices, that was just beyond wrong.

Seto Kaiba was a very brave man, Kisara decided.

The teacher arrived before anyone could say anything else.

Kisara stared at Seto’s seat, smiling until her cheeks hurt. Six minutes later she snapped out of it and started to take notes with her best handwriting. Surely Seto would need notes when he came back.

-o-o-o-

Kisara paid more attention to her next three classes than she did to any other on her entire high school time. And by the time lunch rolled down her head was completely occupied by different scenarios about how to give Seto the notes, of how he’d react, and if would he thank her.

It didn’t matter if he did, Kisara decided, because at the end of the day she just really wanted to help him, Seto’s life wasn’t an easy one and having to come to high school, on top of all of the things he already had to do, seemed positively unfair. He was really strong to be able to shoulder all that at such a young age. How he also was one of the top duelist of the world was beyond Kisara’s imagination.

Kisara was so absorbed by these thoughts that she didn’t notice Takahisa and his minions until they jumped in front of her.

“Hey, bitch,” Takahisa’s smirk was downright predatory. Kisara took a step back, trying to put some distance between them, “You didn’t think I’d forget about you that easily, did you?” he grabbed a white strand of Kisara’s hair, twirling it on his thick, calloused fingers.

Kisara stood there, paralyzed. There was every chance this guy was still angry about last week, and just as much chances that he was going to get violent about. Out of the corner of her eye she confirmed that, yes, the hall was completely deserted. Kisara swallowed hard, cold sweat starting to roll off her back.

“How could we forget such a pretty whore.” The blond guy- Shinji, Kisara recalled- got on her personal space. His bloodshot eyes traveled through her body, slow and thoroughly. Kisara shivered. There was something very wrong about the grin plastered on his face.

Takahisa stepped back, checking Kisara’s lunch before snatching it away, unperturbed his friend’s behaviour. “What do we got here? Oh, you bought me tamagopans? I’m honored.” he looked at his friends “Look what she got us.” They snickered. Shinji’s red eyes still glued her body.

Kisara forced the muscles of her face to form a small smile “You can have them.” She observed the empty space their bodies left. An exit.

“Oh, I know that, Kissy,” somehow Takahisa made it sound like a slur “But, you’ll see, you hurt our feelings back there, so it’s only fair you pay with something more than desserts, don’t you think?”

Shinji’s hands twitched on his sides and Kisara panicked, there was something really fucked up about that guy. She took a deep breath before bolting through the space.

“Hey!” Takahisa called.

Their steps were loud and quick. Kisara tried to remember every trick her father had taught her about escaping from dangerous situations, and managed to lose them on the crowded cafeteria before taking the long route to her classroom.

She smashed the door close, leaning on it. Her breath coming in quick pants.

“What happened?” Anzu asked her, the gang stood up.

Kisara plastered a smile with ease. It was something she was good at.

“Sorry, I thought I was late for class.” It was one of the lamest excuses she’d said, but she was still shaking, so it could’ve been worse.

“You have…” Yugi gestured his hair. There were purple bags under his eyes.

Kisara’s senses started to come back as her breathing normalized and the adrenaline started to wear off. There were pieces of dug on her hair and her left calf. Kisara frowned at the small, sticky pieces like they’d personally offended her, which, in some way, they had.

“I…” She racked her brain for an excuse “I got attacked by a tamagopan?”

They all looked worried. Anzu started to walk closer and Kisara ducked her, going to Yugi’s seat instead. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

All of their eyes went to Yugi. Jounouchi put a hand on his shoulder “He’s just nervous about the next tournament.” It was a lie. They all knew it and so did Kisara. But it’d be hypocritical of her to press the matter, so they both settled on a truce.

She nodded “I can only imagine.” Kisara turned to sit on her seat. They didn’t ask anything else, and neither did she. Of course, that didn’t stop them from giving her concerned glances every now and then; and, once the classes ended, they walked near her all the way to the exit, for which Kisara was endlessly grateful.

The next day Kisara gave Yugi a black and blue thermo “It’s a tea,” she explained “it’ll help you to rest better.”

Yugi stared at the item before carefully taking it “Thank you.”

She shrugged “My father was in the army and he sometimes gets nightmares, this usually helps. Tell me if it works for you, and if it does then I’ll bring you a bag with the herbs.”

Yugi beamed at her, it was the first bright, honest smile Kisara saw on him since the beginning of the year. A warm feeling- that always came with helping people- engulfed her and she briefly wondered if it would feel like that to help Seto, or if it would be better.

However, the feeling had almost died after the day ended. Takahisa and his group didn’t try anything again, but they leered at her, just waiting for their chance. They seemed to be everywhere, just standing or sitting, but always watching her, letting Kisara know nothing was over. It continued until that Thursday when Seto returned.

That day, the trio didn’t as much as looked her way, but Kisara wouldn’t have noticed even if they had done it.

When Seto entered the room Kisara felt her stomach bounce, she couldn’t stop a stupid, and most likely unattractive, smile from appearing on her face. She stood on weak knees and greeted him before handing him a copy of her notes.

Seto looked down at the sheets of paper Kisara gave him. The letter was neat and delicate, perfectly visible even with tired eyes, or at least that’s what she hoped. Kisara waited for his response, her hands behind her back to keep them away his sight. No need for Seto to see how they trembled. She couldn’t help biting her lip, though.

Seto’s eyes went to her face, analyzing her “Why are you giving me this?”

Kisara vowed her head. She took a deep breath, keeping in the ‘I like you’ and ‘I’d like to be your friend’ that threatened to spill from her lips. “I know you’re busy, and I just wanted to help,” She said instead, locking her eyes with his. It was the true, after all.

Seto frowned before shaking his head. “You’re weird.”

Kisara chuckled “Says the guy with a trench coat that could be used as a wedding dress.” She joked. It was out her mouth before her brain processed it and she gaped at her own boldness her hand flying to cover her mouth even if it was too late; there was something about Seto that made it so easy to just let go and be herself with no worries, it was something she’d discovered on their first week of classes.

Seto’s lips curled upwards in a smile. It was an unusual sight; it effectively stopped Kisara’s apology and left her staring at his face.

Seto was so handsome and confident, if maybe a little cocky, but there was so much in his eyes. _Was she the only one who noticed just how many emotions threatened to spill from there?_ Kisara felt her cheeks growing hot.

“At least your handwriting is pleasant to read.” He offered, sitting as the teacher arrived.

Kisara stood dumbstruck.

“Asakawa, sit.” The teacher said. So she did.

-o-o-o-

**MARCH, 2016**

“Do you want to go out for breakfast?” Mokuba asks around a stifled yawn as he enters the living room.

Seto looks at him from the threshold of Mokuba’s bedroom. “Don’t you usually eat it here?”

Mokuba shakes his head, his hair sticking in every which way “Not on Mondays. Today Kisara’s helping on the museum so I usually go out.”

Seto just nods.

-o-o-o-

“So I talked with Kisara last night.” Mokuba begins.

They are on a café near the university. There are paintings on the brick walls and plants on the windows. A violin, cello and piano trio plays on the speakers. Seto takes a second to admire the well thought marketing strategy, how this place would definitely lure artists and usual students with its calmness.

“And?” Seto asks when the silence stretches too long.

Mokuba’s hands play with the edge of his beautifully decorated mug. “I asked her if she had a problem with you.”

Seto grips tightly the pad that rests on his hands “What did she say?”

Mokuba’s eyes go back and forth between Seto’s eyes and the mug on his hands. He sighs “Brother, you know Kisara was there for me when we were… on not… I mean we weren’t doing great and, well it kind of reminded her about her family and all, and she was happy when we made out but,” Mokuba’s tongue darts out to moisten his lips “I guess she still kind of resents you about the state I was in when she met me.”

Seto stares at his brother. He looks so small, just like the child he raised and, not for the first time, he’s hit by a crushing guilt. He leans in, his eyes staying on Mokuba’s. “I’m sorry about that,” he starts “I shouldn’t have reacted that way, and I definitely shouldn’t have allowed you to reject your monthly allowance. It was wrong of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that.” He’s being saying that for so long, and yet, Seto still doesn’t feel like he’s said it nearly enough.

Mokuba gives him a tiny smile “I do. I forgive you,” He says with all the confidence in the world “Furthermore, you couldn’t have forced me to take that money, I’m stubborn like that. I learnt from the best after all.” He teases.

Seto doesn’t smile “I made you that angry, angry enough for you to cut communications.”

“Which I shouldn’t have done.” Silence. Mokuba purses his mouth, his fingers drumming on the already lukewarm mug, “I’m not angry with you anymore. If anything I must say that that experience taught me a lot. I won’t go as far as saying I’m grateful for it, but I didn’t realize how easy was my life before that, you know? Like yeah we had it rough at the beginning but ever since I was 13 I got used to do pretty much whatever I wanted and have all the money in the world, and I don’t really like the person I was back then. Then again, Kisara says that we would all kick our former-selves given the chance.”

Seto presses the heel of his hands against his eyes until tiny black spots start to dance in front of him. Of course Kisara would say that.

“What I never understood brother, is what happened after you graduated...” Mokuba trails. It’s a conversation he’s tried, and failed, to have before.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Seto asks, taken aback.

“Well, we got along famously and then you just kind of pushed me away. By the time I decided the career I wanted you and I were barely finishing healing our relationship, and then you just exploded."

_‘I thought you would leave me, just like her, just like everyone else.’_ Seto thinks about his conversation with Jounouchi. The mutt’s right, as much as Seto hates to admit it. Mokuba does deserve an answer.

It’s Mokuba’s voice what brings him back from his thoughts “I’m still perplexed that you had more problems with me studying art than you had with me telling you I was gay at 13. Kohaku says it’s the weirdest thing he’s ever heard.”

Mokuba’s eyes shine as the name leaves his mouth and Seto launches himself at the exit “How’s Kohaku by the way?”

Mokuba flushes scarlet red, unable to stop himself from grinning. Despite everything, Seto still remembers what that is, feeling so warm at the mention of a person’s name you have to let some of that happiness out or you’ll burst. “He’s fine… He’s finishing his practices in a hospital near here, in the children's department. I actually sculpted a bunch of duel monsters for him last month, so he could take them there and give a little more light to the place. Kisara painted him a dragons’ land, too. And the hospital’s thinking about hiring him, because he’s that good.”

Seto tries hard to ignore Kisara’s part “He sounds great.” He leans back on the booth.

“He is.” Mokuba grins, he’s beaming and Seto feels his heart swell at his brother happiness. ”I’m glad.” He waits until Mokuba starts sipping from his cup. “When will I meet him?” He chuckles as his brother chokes on his tea.

So maybe Seto loves him more than anything else, but, hey, they’re still brothers.

It’s after Mokuba has stopped coughing that they settled on him bringing Kohaku for dinner.

“Seto, thank you, for everything you’re doing. It really means the world for me.” Mokuba says as they walk to the university’s building.

“Good luck with your test.” Seto says, hoping his brother understand everything he just can’t say.

Mokuba laughs, hitting him in the shoulder.

-o-o-o-

When Seto steps into the apartment again he’s greeted by the sound of a rock and roll song. It carries him to the living room. The big window on the front leaving so much light inside it almost blinds him. He squints his eyes at it before they come to a stop on the body that’s right in front of the window.

Kisara’s painting in a canvas, her ipod resting on a chair next to her. The painting’s full of blues and whites: a big unsettled sea.

However, his brain barely registers any of it for Kisara’s clad only on her underwear, her hips swinging to the beat of the music. Her ponytail offers no cover to her body.

Seto clears his throat, not wanting to look like a creep. That’s when his eyes catch sight of the tattoo.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Kisara yells, hastily putting on her robe.

“Mokuba’s classes started at ten. He gave me the key so I could enter.” Seto says, not taking his eyes from Kisara’s upper leg, the ending of a blue tail curling on it.

“Oh my God, could you at least pretend you’re not ogling me?” Kisara shrieks, hugging the robe tighter to her body.

Seto blinks “I wasn’t,” Kisara rolls her eyes. Seto decides to ignore her, because he really isn’t a creep, okay? “You got a tattoo,” He provides as an explanation.

Kisara looks down at it. It’s the tail of a Blue Eyes White Dragon. “Yeah, I got it in my second semester,” She states.

“I didn’t know you liked tattoos,” Kisara had never shown any interest on them beyond their artistic nature.

“That’s really none of your business, Seto.” Kisara’s tone is distant and tired. It reminds Seto why they’re at odds. Why this is a more than awkward situation.

“Whatever.” Seto walks into Mokuba’s bedroom, taking his laptop with him. Just when he’s about to settled on the bed and start working his eyes land on the walls. Mokuba’s various posters stare back at him. He sighs, and resigns into going to the living room.

“Weren’t you going to work on Mokuba’s room?” Kisara asks with an arched eyebrow.

“No. I’m working here,” he answers flatly, settling on the couch nearest to him.

“Why? Are you expecting a show or something?”

It’s Seto’s turn to roll his eyes “Don’t be ridiculous,” judging by the way Kisara tenses, it was probably the wrong thing to say. Images come to Seto of all the times he’d called her ridiculous, every time he’d called art preposterous. It was definitely the wrong thing to say, he decides. “What I meant is that I can’t work there.”

Kisara takes a deep breath, accepting the change of topic for everyone’s sake. “And why is that?”

“Haven’t you seen it?”

Seto can pinpoint the exact moment when Kisara understands what he meant, because she starts to giggle.

“Don’t laugh.” He says halfheartedly. Truth being told, this is the first time he’s heard her laughter in seven years and, God, did he miss that sound?

Kisara full on laughs at his blush, her body curling on itself, “So that’s all it takes to get you out of a room, a couple of men in posters?” She wipes a tear that escapes her eye with the back of her hand “They aren’t even pornyish or anything.”

“One of them is half naked.” Seto shudders.

Which only makes Kisara laugh again. “C’mon. That’s Aquaman. Of course he’s half naked.”

“His eyes are too focused.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Kisara chuckles. She turns back to her work, a smile still in her face.

“Weren’t you helping on the museum today?” Seto asks after a couple of minutes.

“Yes, I started at five am and got out at nine as always.”

“You always paint in your underwear?” He isn’t sure why he wants to extend this talk. But it has been so, so long without her voice.

Kisara shrugs “Usually. My skin is way easier to clean than my clothes.”

Seto nods, not quite sure of what to say. It’s odd, to feel that familiarity while bantering with her, just for it to be lost again when he tries to actually talk to her. They both have changed so much. Kisara has become so secure of herself, it’s obvious in the way she holds herself even though she’s still dressed in just a robe.

Her eyes are completely focused on the canvas in front of her, but he can see them straying to where he is every once in a while.

“I didn’t offer Mokuba the room just because he’s your brother.” Kisara says out of the blue, about half an hour later.

Seto blinks at the unexpected statement “And you expect me to believe you didn’t know his name, even after you let him live here?”

Kisara sighs “No.”

“Then I see no point in your argument.”

Kisara puts her brushes on a glass with water rather forcibly. Small drops of the liquid splash on her knees and thighs, she pays them no mind. “See, that’s your problem. You have no idea of how to listen.”

Seto puts his laptop on the coffee table “I’m listening.” He challenges. Because there’s really no way in which Kisara can explain this. “Although it would be easier for you to just said you wanted to see me again, as illogical as that is, all things considered.”

She sits on the armrest opposite to Seto “I didn’t do it for that Seto. If anything, his surname kept me from helping Mokuba the moment I met him. It took me three hours to convince myself that I had to help him.”

Seto narrows his eyes, “Explain.”

“Fine.” Kisara pushes her bangs to the side “I’m a person who likes to help, you know it, I know it, the whole campus knows it and so do the city of Domino. So, when word spread of a boy who’d been rejected by his family, which they kind of abound in here, people came to me and they didn’t give me a name they just told me to check him out and see if I could help, so I did. I found Mokuba working on a café a block from here and I recognized him the moment I saw him, and...” She stops, taking a deep breath “Seto, I swear I was planning on leaving him alone, I was going to turn back and leave, because even after all that time, after I’d made peace with all that happened, I just couldn’t deal with his face. He has so much of you and I just couldn’t deal with that. So I came back and tried to distract myself to no avail.” She frowns, her fingers playing with the hem of her robe “Images of him miserable and alone haunted me, and I wondered what had happened, because I knew how much you love him and so I went back and started to talk to him. I tried to be as straightforward as possible so he wouldn’t think I was flirting or anything. He rejected my help at first, but then he got on a fight with his roommate and he just settled here. I tried not to become his friend, but he’s a lovely kid, Seto,” her lips curl up with fondness “He’s kind and he didn’t know a single thing about living by himself and I just couldn’t help it.” She shrugs.

“I’m grateful that he had someone to lean on.” Seto caresses the locker that rests on his chest. Kisara nods. “Did it ever occur to you that becoming his friend would mean seeing me again?”

Kisara snorts “It was the only thing I could think of for days. I avoided talking about you as much as I could. But then he asked me to listen to his story and the big fall-out you had and,” she shrugs “you know I suck at saying no. So I heard it, and well I won’t say I wasn’t angry at you. But then you made out and I kept praying that I’d be able to escape whenever you came.”

He nods. Kisara returns it, her shoulders sagging a little. Seto hadn’t notice how tense she was until she relaxed.

Kisara’s eyes go to the clock on the wall and she stands “Look, I really need to finish this card, before Pegasus changes his mind about the design,” her exasperated tone tells him is something she’s used to.

“You work for Pegasus?”

“Yeah, I paint cards, it’s actually my job, along with the museum.”

Seto stares at her face. Kisara’s older, wiser, there’s a tired aura to her that Seto knows comes with age, and the uncertainty proper of said age. But, right now, with the sun caressing her skin, with the light bouncing off her hair like a halo, Seto can see the girl he once fell in love with. The one that made him believe in goodness.

“Show me,” He sort of asks.

Kisara raises an eyebrow before shrugging “If you wish.”

-o-o-o-

**MAY, 2008**

“Kaiba-sama.” His secretary’s voice came from the com “There’s a girl in here that wants to see you. She says she’s your classmate.”

Seto rolled his eyes, they all said that. “Tell her I’m busy.” He said.

There were a couple seconds of silence before the com buzzed again “She says her name’s Asakawa Kisara.”

Seto stared at the little object, his brows drawn together. _Why was Kisara here?_ He couldn’t think of a single reason why she’d come. “Let her in.” He finally said.

The door opened. Kisara was wearing black shorts and a white and black t-shirt, with heavy black eyeliner and pink lipstick.

“Are those… cat ears?” Seto pointed at the headband sticking out of her purse.

Kisara blushed, pushing the ears deeper into her purse. “Yes, it’s part of my work uniform;” she licked her lips “but, that’s not why I’m here.”

Seto arched an eyebrow, part of him couldn’t imagine Kisara wearing a cat uniform, but other part of him was perfectly happy with the image. He shoved both of them down “Then why are you here?”

Kisara bit her lip “I’m sorry if this isn’t a good moment, it’s just that this is my lunch break and I really couldn’t come at any other time…”

“That’s not what I meant,” Seto said, walking towards her.

Kisara smiled, “I… A couple days ago you said that sometimes you’re too busy to eat, well not with those words but,” she looked at the box on her hands “I wanted to bring you this,” Kisara extended a white box to him, her hands sure in a way her voice wasn’t “It’s not the biggest lunch in the world, but it’s tasty and better than you working with an empty stomach until dinner.”

Seto took it gently, their fingers lightly brushing “Why?”

Kisara shrugged, Seto accepting her gift seemed to make her perk up “I just thought about it while I was working and decided to come and bring you some lunch.”

“You were thinking of me during work?” How unusual for this girl to go out of her way for something as vain as this without wanting something back. Because that’s one thing Seto knew about Kisara, she never expected anything back, no matter how much she gave. It didn’t make sense for him, but she seemed to know no other way.

Kisara laughed, walking to the crystal walls “Yeah, there’s nothing to fear, though, I’m not a stalker, I just think a lot about my friends,” she touched the cool glass “Although, I admit you’re becoming quite more recurrent on my mind than anyone else,” Kisara pressed her face to the glass, admiring the city beneath them. It was busy and loud and filthy, but from this distance it looked peaceful, ordered, quiet. It was mesmerizing. “How beautiful.” She breathed

“You like heights?” Seto asked with a smile. He carefully set the box on his desk.

“It makes everything look better, I guess.”

“It gives you a better view of things.” He conceded. He was above everyone, and it was so much easy to make a decision as long as he stayed there.

Kisara’s lips curled on a sweet smile. “My mother used to say the best points for painting sceneries where the highest ones because you could see everything,” Seto nodded, not sure how to respond to that “Actually, I would really like to take a picture of this someday to paint it. If you don’t mind, of course.”

Seto shrugged “If that’s what you wish; though I don’t see why’d you want to waste your time with that.”

Kisara shook her head. They stared at the distant talking about nothing in particular until Kisara had to go back to her job.

“I really enjoyed seeing you, Seto.” She said, stopping on the threshold to give him a last glance.

“So did I,” He agreed. His eyes went to the box in his desk “And thank you for the lunch. I’ll pay you for it.”

Kisara grinned at him “You’re welcome. And I could keep bringing them to you if you want?”

“That would be practical, I suppose,” he conceded with a smile. Kisara laughed before exiting the room. The sound of her voice accompanied him through the rest of the afternoon.

It was easier to fall asleep that night.

-o-o-o-

Later that night Kisara nodded to the nurse exiting her mother’s room.

“It’s nice to see you, Kisara-chan,” the redhead said with a smile, the same sad smile she always gave Kisara.

“Same thing, Yuka-san.”

The nurse closed the door after letting Kisara in.

“Hi mom.” Kisara greeted. There wasn’t any answer, not that she was expecting one.

The monitors connected to her mother’s arm and wrist beeped as steadily as the rise and fall of the breathing machine. Her mother’s eyes were closed and there were small, thin tubes on her nose. “Today I talked to Ryo about that old haunted manor? I don’t know if you remember but I told you about it yesterday and we’re going to look it up this friday.” Kisara caressed her mother’s hair. It was black and thin. “I also visited Seto, yeah that guy you think I like, which I don’t by the way, he’s my friend, well I think he considers me as a friend. I hope…” She licked her lips, running her fingers through her mother’s hands. “You’d like him a lot, I think. He’s too centered but he’s good. He’s a little ill willed? Sometimes. But he’s not a bad person. It just takes a minute of hearing him talk about his brother to realize just how good he is, how hard he loves. And there are times when his walls come down where you can see a little boy who was left down one too many times. I admire his will to keep going, it inspires me when I feel like I can’t…” Kisara didn’t bother wiping the tear that fell from her eye “I miss you so much, mom.” She swallowed hard “I’m so confused and I really wish you were here, I wish you could help me and give me advices and… I really need you right now, mom.” Kisara rested her head on the bed, the sobs coming out unhidden. There was no one around right now. No reason to pretend she was okay.

-o-o-o-

**MARCH, 2016**

“So he just gives you the name and power of the card and you have free domain over how it’ll look like?” Seto says, leaning to the painting in front of him. An angry ocean swirls in front of him, willing to kill whatever goes in. Lighting adorns the dark sky above it.

“He does with me. Pegasus doesn’t trust a lot of people with his cards, so the ones who are in charge of them have proved their skills to him.” Kisara looks at Seto. “So, you don’t mind art anymore?”

Seto sighs “I didn’t understand it before.”

“And you do now?”

“I understand it’s something Mokuba loves,” he shrugs “so there must be something good about it.”

Kisara just smiles. She loosens the ribbon that kept her hair tied in a ponytail. “If you say so.”

“He’s bringing his boyfriend for dinner.”

That makes Kisara laugh “Really? Awesome. You’ll like Kohaku. He really loves Mokuba.” She smiles at the canvas.

If Seto didn’t know better he’d say that shine in her eyes is longing.

“Yeah, so I have heard. It seems to be mutual.”

The sun coming from the window bathes Kisara, it makes her glow just as much as her love for painting does. And Seto’s happy she finally found something that makes her this happy, he really is, but there’s still a part of him that wishes she would’ve tried to find it with him, that he could’ve been there in her graduation and her first card.

He remembers the smile on Mokuba’s face, the way his whole expression changed, when he talked about Kohaku, and he knows he also longs for it, because he already knows what it is like, how nice it was to feel safe in someone’s name, in their eyes, and seeing someone have that after he’s lost it, it hurts.

Kisara’s still on her robe, expertly moving her brush through the canvas, and for a moment Seto pretends this is what could’ve been. Both of them together, not really doing anything more than just spend the time together, and that being enough.

 


	3. Do I Wanna Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new.  
> …  
> Do I wanna know, if this feling flows both ways  
> Been wondering if your heart’s still open, and if so I wanna know what time it shuts.  
> -Do I wanna know by the Arctic Mokeys

**“Kohaku’s coming for dinner”** Kisara shakes her head at Mokuba’s text.

**“Yeah I know. Your brother told me. Thanks for the heads up about that btw.”**

**“:O >.< Oops… sorry”**

**“Don’t worry, I’m making dinner. He’s working in the living room.”**

Her screen stays black for a minute before chirping with Mokuba’s answer **“What am I going to do if he doesn’t like Kohaku? What if they hate each other?”**

Kisara bites her lips, thinking of a way to put it **“Kohaku loves you so much, it’s impossible Seto’ll dislike him. So pull yourself together.”**

**“Ok... yeah. Guess you’re right.”**

**“Usually am.”**

“What are you doing?”

Kisara jumps, her hands fumbling to save her phone from a sure death “Christ, we need to put you a bell.” She clutches her phone to her chest, trying to get herself under control again.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Put a bit more emotion to it and it’ll sound like an apology.” She teases. Seto stays quiet, it makes her expression soften. Seto won’t apologize, they both know it, which to be honest it’s for the best, because Kisara doesn’t want that, can’t deal with that.

Seto just stays there, tense and quiet so Kisara grabs a wooden spoon and shoves it in his hands. He can’t apologize and he better not start talking “Here, stir the soup while I cut the veggies.”

Seto stares at the object for a moment before shrugging and going to the pot “How’s Kohaku? As a person I mean,” He’s trying to sound nonchalant she’s sure of it. He fails.

It makes Kisara chuckle “Always so direct.” Seto stays silent, it makes her smile soften. It’s been so long since she’s seen this Seto, it tugs at her heart in the best way possible “He’s good. He’s an awesome guy and I assure you he’s not with Mokuba for the money.” She loved Mokuba and Kohaku’s story, even if she can’t help but to envy them a little bit “They became friends a little after Mokuba started living here and they’ve been dating for a year and half. And hear this he’s taking time out of his crazy schedule to organize a party for Mokuba. And when they look at each other...” Kisara shakes her head. Bad train of thoughts, “They truly love each other.”

Seto just nods. He moves the spoon mindlessly, to a point Kisara starts to fear he has really zoned out with a boiling pot less than two feet from him. She observes him for a moment, trying to discern why her speech would put him like this. She reviews the whole story before understanding dawns on her “He doesn’t hate you for what happened.” Seto turns to her with a frown. Kisara just smiles “He used to be angry, but he doesn’t hate you. He also kind of admires you. He’s a duelist.” She adds at Seto’s puzzled expression.

“Well, at least we’ll have something to talk about.” He muses, returning to the pot with renewed focus.

Kisara can’t make her mouth return to a neutral expression as she stares at the vegetables. And if she cuts them a little too small, well that’s no one’s business.

It’s just, seeing Seto so concerned by what his brother’s boyfriend- and primary support, along with Kisara- might think of him is both endearing and terrifying. How is Kisara supposed not to fall for him when he’s so damn caring?

-o-o-o-

**JUNE, 2016**

Seto wiped the sweat out of his forehead. Summer had barely started and the thermostat was already reaching the 30°C in the mornings. He stared at the ceiling briefly wondering what Kisara might be doing at the moment. Maybe she was just as uncomfortable with the weather as him. On the other hand, she looked more comfortable with the heat than with the cold.

A knock on the door brought him back to reality. Seto told them to enter. Being in his home office meant that the only people who would interrupt him were Mokuba and Isono.

“Brother.” Mokuba greeted, entering the room uneasily.

“What’s wrong?” Seto frowned, saving his work before giving him his full attention. His brother’s hands were intertwined in from of him, his feet playing with the carpet.

“Are you busy?” Mokuba ignored the question, furtively looking at Seto through his eyelashes.

Seto discretely closed everything resigning himself to not getting any work done today. He stood from his desk and sat on the couch next to Mokuba, inviting him to do the same. The kid obliged slowly. He sat as far away from Seto as possible.

“What’s wrong?” Seto asked again. Softer this time. Whatever was in the kid’s mind was making him twitchy and anxious and Seto didn’t want to make things worse.

For a fleeting moment he panicked about the possibility of Mokuba finding out about his relationship with Kisara before Seto had the chance to tell him. Then he studied Mokuba’s posture better. The kid was stiff, sitting completely straight, like he was readying himself to flee if necessary. Mokuba wasn’t angry, he was afraid.

Seto frowned at that. Mokuba, of all people, shouldn’t be afraid of him.

Mokuba licked his lips, resting his eyes on Seto’s locker. “Have you ever had a posture about homosexuals, brother?” He stumbled on the words, each one crashing with the next one.

It took Seto a moment more than necessary to make sense to Mokuba’s words. When he did, he considered it thoroughly. It was a subject he’d never been interested in and, thus, didn’t really have an opinion about. But the way Mokuba seemed to be holding his breath told Seto this was important for the kid. Perhaps he had a friend who was gay and didn’t know if it’d be okay to invite him over?

Seto shrugged a shoulder after carefully thinking it over “I don’t particularly care.”

“Can you elaborate a little more?” Mokuba’s voice was tight with the effort to keep everything buried. It was so unusual.

Seto looked up, trying to find what Mokuba wanted “I think it’s nobody’s business what someone does on their private life, as long as they don’t hurt anyone.”

Mokuba’s shoulders relaxed a little “And, do you think it has any relevance on their worth as a person?”

Seto blinked at that “No. Why would I?”

All the tension left Mokuba’s body in one deep, long sigh. The kid nodded to himself “So, you wouldn’t mind if, let’s say, I happened to be gay?”

What?

It all clicked on Seto’s mind. Mokuba’s apprehension about the issue suddenly made so much sense. “Mokuba are you trying to tell me that you’re gay?”

“Maybe…” Mokuba worried his bottom lip “I don’t know. I mean I see all my friends thinking about the girls on school or about the ones on magazines and I’ve tried to think about girls that way but” he shrugged, “I just can’t, and I thought maybe I was just too young, that it’d come with time…” Mokuba looked around, trying to ground himself “but lately I’ve started noticing boys more than normal and” he took a shaking breath, his eyes shining with tears “I don’t want people to hate me, and I don’t want to be a freak, but I just can’t stop and I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” The kid broke down. He curled on the couch, trying to hide his tears behind his arms.

Seto untangled him, slow and carefully. He held Mokuba’s face between his hands, his thumbs wiping the tears away “Listen to me” he said sternly “You are not a freak. There is NOTHING  wrong with you, and if anyone ever dares to as much as look wrongly at you for this, then I will tear their heart out of their chests myself. Do you understand?”

Mokuba sniffed, his lips slowly quirking “Can you just hold them while I do it myself?”

Seto laughed at that “Always.”

Mokuba flung himself to Seto chest, the kid’s hair tickling his chin “You’re the best brother.” Seto just held him tighter.

“Obviously.”

Seto felt more than heard Mokuba snickering. It was a vibration on his chest that made him light up, and he decided in that moment that he’d do anything to keep him safe.

“I’m so glad there aren’t secrets between us.” Mokuba breathed “I hated the idea of hiding from you.”

Seto tensed momentarily before forcing himself to relax. No secrets… right.

“Yeah, me too.” He said into Mokuba’s hair.

-o-o-o-

**MARCH, 2016**

In the list of things that Kisara shouldn’t have done, seeing Seto interact with Mokuba and his boyfriend is definitely on the top five.

Seto greeted him with a handshake, his eyes analyzing the boy in front of him. She could see Kohaku doing the same, and she knew Kohaku was probably trying to reconcile the man in front of him with the man Mokuba’s stories painted. All of them.

And that’s how she found herself in the dining table.

“Mokuba told me you’re studying medicine.” Seto starts.

They all turn to Kohaku, his brown eyes sparkling at the mention of Mokuba talking about him. “Yes, I’m on my second to last semester.”

“He’ll give his generation speech.” Mokuba intervenes with hearts on his eyes and Kisara, not for the first time, feels like bolting out of the room. The moment feels too intimate. There’s too much love in there.

Kohaku chuckles “Now that’s not definite, Mokuba. Anyone could give the speech.”

Mokuba looks at his brother “He’s just being modest. He’s the top of most of his classes.” He confides, like his boyfriend isn’t three feet from him.

To Kisara’s credit, Seto looks just as uncomfortable as she feels.

He turns to look at her as she raises her glass to him with a resigned smile. He nods.

“That’s impressive.” Seto replies. “Are you thinking of working here?”

Kisara’s eyes widen at the implication. She kicks his legs under the table and minutely shakes her head. Seto’s eyes just go back to focusing on Kohaku.

“The hospital where I’m making my practices offered me a job this morning.”

“That’s amazing!” Mokuba’s face splits in the widest grin Kisara’s ever seen.

She’s going to be sick.

“So you’re planning on staying here.”

Kisara stops herself from rolling her eyes.

“For the time being, yes. It may change. Life’s unpredictable, after all.”

Seto doesn’t even pretend to eat anymore. He just studies the two men. “And how did you two meet?”

Crapcrapcrapcrap. “Does anyone want more onigiris? I made plenty.” Kisara steps in since Mokuba’s mind seems to have gone blank.

“Long story short, we met on the café that’s a block from here. I was trying to figure out how to do a model of a human skull, and, when Mokuba came to take my order, he saw my plans and offered to help me out.” Kohaku says as if he hadn’t heard Kisara’s question. “I offered to pay him for tutoring me and we ended just kind of seamlessly fitting into each other’s life.”

Kisara looks at Seto. Part of her wants to take his hand, help him somehow with the storm that must be roaring inside him right now. The other part wants to tell him ‘you had it coming’. She bites the inside of her cheek, waiting.

Seto doesn’t avert his eyes. He just keeps them trained on Kohaku, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’m glad Mokuba had you both by his side in that time.”

Kisara can feel Kohaku’s eyes on her, he’s probably gaping just like her… Of all the things Seto could’ve said or done, that was definitely not what she was expecting.

“Well, Mokuba’s lovely, so it’s not that surprising.” Kohaku lights the situation with his usual ease, and Kisara finally remembers how to breathe again.

Seto nods, “I heard you’re a duelist?”

Kohaku grins.

They start discussing tournaments and other duelists. He practically squeals with excitement when Seto tells him about the duelists that are entering the professional circuit this year. All of them fresh from the Duel Academy.

Kisara just sits there, looking at her friends and exboyfriend interact like old acquaintances. It’s beautiful and lovely, until it’s not. After a moment her chest starts to feel heavy, her stomach clenching. She’s never felt so much like a stranger in her own house. It makes her frown, she shouldn’t feel like this. She’s spent years of her life building a comfortable web of friends, of people that make her feel like something other than a waste of space, and in just one visit Seto ruins it.

She finishes her meal almost robotically. “I’ll be right back.” Kisara excuses herself. No one but Seto spares her a look.

She’s out of the apartment before she knows it. The phone rings four times before it’s picked up “Hello” Kisara relaxes on the stairs that connect her floor with the one above, the wall next to her supporting her entire weight.

“Hi Ryo, how you doing?”

“Fine, busy, you know how the editorials are, deadlines and all. How about you?” Kisara hears the keys on Ryo’s computer clicking. She must have interrupted him while he was editing.

She looks out of the window, the sky’s full of stars, little spots of lights among the darkness “Seto’s here.” Kisara says in lieu of an explanation. It’s the only way she can explain what she’s feeling. “He came for Mokuba’s exhibition.”

Ryo stays silence, then there’s the tell-tale of him clicking everything shut “Okay, I’m all ears.” He finally says.

Kisara tells him about how she came home two days ago only to find Seto Kaiba in her living room, looking as gob smacked as she felt. About how it made memories of that hellish year rush back, submerging her into that fight-or-flight mode she’d become so accustomed to.

“I wasn’t fair, I hurt him.” She finishes.

“How do you feel, Kiss?” Ryo asks.

Kisara pokes the tip of Blue Eyes White Dragon’s tail that’s visible beneath her dress. How does she feel about Seto being here? “I’m scared.” She admits “I feel like he being here will drag me back to that year, to that night. None of what happened was his fault, and yet I feel like he’s the only one I hurt. And he didn’t deserve it.”

“You’re feeling guilty.” Ryo’s voice is soft and full of worry “It wasn’t your fault. I don’t know what I’d have done in your place Kisara.” He says for the thousandth time in these seven years.

“Then why do I feel like garbage?” She whispers. Broken and confused.

“Because you took a hard decision, and it hurt some people, but it was good for you.” He lets his words sink in before continuing “And, hey, look at it this way. Maybe this will help you get some closure. I’m sure you’ll feel better once you apologize.”

Kisara agrees, completely sure that it’s easier said than done. She doesn’t tell this to Ryo, but somehow she knows he understands.

When Kisara re-enters her apartment Seto and Kohaku are in the middle of a duel, her coffee table made into an arena. She just leans on the wall, enjoying the view.

Along the years Kisara had managed to sort of forget what it was that she liked so much about Seto. The very thing that lured her to him. Watching them duel, she’s reminded of it.

There’s passion spilling in rivulets from his eyes. The security of someone who’s in his element in his posture. And when he summons Blue Eyes like a proud lover, she can’t help but fall in love with that.

-o-o-o-

**JULY, 2008**

Between school, work and visiting her mother, Kisara didn’t have much free time. When Seto was added to the equation, whatever amount of free time she had turned to zero.

She still bookmarked the page to Pegasus’ art contest. The summer break was near, and if she juggled with her tasks, there was almost enough time to actually get a good painting done.

“Do you even have time for that?” Was the first thing out of Seto’s mouth after she told him. It was discouraging, but, if she squinted, she could pass it off as concern.

“I can make time.” She grinned. Her voice confident in a way she wasn’t.

“If you say so.”

Kisara looked at the city below them. The railing of the KC building roof started to warm on her hands. They were looking at the sunset, per Kisara’s request.

It was a beautiful sight.

“How’s Mokuba?” Kisara asked, her fingers caressing Seto’s hand.

Seto withdrew his hand, staring harder at the sunset “He’s fine.” he raked a hand through his hair “He hasn’t had any problems with his classmates but, I don’t feel like he’s telling me everything.”

“He’ll be fine, he’s a strong kid. You raised him that way.” Kisara turned, she braced her hands on the railing before hopping to seat above it.

Seto studied her posture before moving closer to her, he placed a hand over her jeans clad leg. The summer was striking full force, and yet, Kisara would rather getting a heat stroke than letting Seto see the big, ugly, eggplant bruise on her leg; a reminder of Takahisa’s latest attack. “I know. But I also know it isn’t easy for a queer boy to survive middle school.”

“I know. But at least no one knows, yet.” Kisara observed as the golden light of the twilight bathed Seto’s face, his blue eyes shining as the light reflected on them. He was beautiful. “And even if they find out, only an idiot would mess with a Kaiba.”

Seto smiled at her face, her soft eyes gazing adoringly at him. It made him feel special… loved. “I guess you’re right.”

Kisara blushed as his fingers skimmed her cheek. They danced through her jaw, coming to a stop on her neck “I hope I am.” She closed her eyes leaning into the touch.

Seto’s presence was intoxicated, it was definite, it engulfed everything around him.

Kisara swallowed down the ‘I wish I could meet him’ that threatened to come out again. “He’s a great kid.” She said, instead.

And yet, Seto got the message. He sighed, letting his hand fall on the railing, right next to hers “You know why I can’t introduce you.”

Kisara didn’t pout, not really “Your brother’s smart, he’ll know I’m not your way of forcing heterosexuality in his life. He’ll realize it just after a couple minutes.”

Seto aged ten years in front of her, his eyes tired and worn down “Kisara, I have never in my life showed the barest hint of any kind of attraction to another person. And now, all of sudden, I get a girlfriend, just right after he told me that he’s gay. How do you think that looks like?”

Kisara pursed her lips, her eyes fixed on his coat. Her shoulders slumped after a long exhale. “Your right.” Kisara raised her head to meet his gaze. “Sorry, I understand how important your brother’s wellbeing is for you.” She smiled, her right hand moving to rest on the nape of his neck. Seto’s hand flew to her waist to keep her balanced. He’d always keep her from falling. It made Kisara feel safe “You’re a good brother, Seto.”

Seto watched as the light bounced off her hair, his free hand moving to touch it. “It looks like a halo.” He said, amazed.

Kisara grinned “Well, then I’m your personal angel.”

She closed her eyes as Seto’s face got closer to hers, his hands tightening their grasp on her. His lips were warm and soft, they tasted like coffee and heaven. It was the best moment of her life, and Kisara wanted it to last forever.

-o-o-o-

Seto drove her to her house.

“Keep going.” Kisara said after spotting the silver car parked right in front of her house.

Seto parked on the curb, his car hidden from anyone who weren’t searching for it. “What’s wrong?”

Kisara glared at the silver vehicle “That’s my piano teacher’s car.”

“So?”

“I stopped taking piano classes since march.” She turned momentarily to Seto “I left it because I could see my teacher ogling my father, and he reciprocating.” It was insulting. Her mother wasn’t even dead and her father, an army officer, was shamelessly flirting with someone. And to rub salt on the wound, they thought Kisara was stupid enough not to notice. As if.

Seto sighed “Kisara, you do realize your father is, by all means, a free man, right? I know it must be hard, but it’s really none of your business.” He said carefully, like he was talking to a wild animal.

Kisara turned, glaring now at Seto. “He’s in the army, he should know about respect and honor. What he shouldn’t do is throw himself at the first willing whore!”

Seto’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly taken aback by Kisara’s burst “He has a right to remake his life, Kisara. Don’t be a brat.” He was annoyed, He was also right. She didn’t care.

“I’m not being a brat, Seto. They’re wrong, and they know it, otherwise they wouldn’t be hiding. They can’t do this to me, to my mother!”

“Isn’t your mother dead?”

Kisara blinked. Uh uh. “Well, yeah, her memory I mean. She hasn’t even been dead that long. What happened to mourning?” Kisara blurted. The doctors told them that, if they wanted to euthanize her mother, it would be preferable to keep it a secret. Her father had been glad, to the point Kisara’d asked to do it herself. Her parents relationship hadn’t been perfect by a long shot, the only thing keeping their marriage from falling apart was her father ambition, and the image he needed to maintain to fulfill it. And Kisara was sure as hell not going to let someone who didn’t love her mother take her life away.

But she couldn’t do it. After almost a year of waiting for her eighteenth birthday to be able to end her mother’s torture, she hadn’t been able to do it. She’d freeze in the spot every time, and decided to do it later. Rumiko, her mother, had always being an active, happy person, full of life. She was the best artist Kisara knew of and she loved her so much. Rumiko loved life, and Kisara was sure that being trapped in her own mind like that was nothing short to torture for her, and yet, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“Mourning a cold body is pointless, Kisara.” Seto said in that holier than thou attitude that Jonouchi so rightfully hated.

How about mourning a warm body? “Not everyone can bottle up their feelings like you, Seto.”

Seto’s face shut down and Kisara knew she’d stepped on a boundary.

She looked down “Sorry.” The air inside the car was so tense Kisara was sure she could cut it with a knife “I just feel that, if he moves on, it feels like forgetting about her. I don’t want to forget my mother.”

Seto released a sigh after a while “You’re not. You have to keep on with your life. If you let this stop you then you’ll be stuck here forever.”

“Is that how you moved on?”

Seto nodded “You must sort out your priorities. Mine was giving Mokuba a better life, mourning was at the very bottom.”

Kisara watched as her father and Michiru, her piano teacher, left on her car. “You’re right.” she took Seto’s hand, caressing it without breaking eye contact “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Seto nodded.

Kisara exited the car, leaning on the frame “Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

-o-o-o-

Kisara slammed every door she closed. It made the trembling stop but it didn’t make her feel better.

She looked at the list of card options Pegasus had uploaded.

 

A water attribute, fairy type. Two stars.

A fire attribute, warrior type. Three stars.

An earth attribute, beast type. Four stars.

A wind attribute, free type. Five stars

A dark attribute, spellcaster type. 5+ stars.

A light attribute, dragon type. 5+ stars.

Spell card.

Trap card.

 

She sat on her bed, thinking about how the light had grown thin and golden-like in Seto’s face, and how their shadows on the floor had grown larger but thinner, too, with every minute.

She thought about Yugi’s smile and Takahisa’s smirk. About her father’s sense of justice and this affair of his. But more than all, Kisara thought about the way Seto could raise her so high she could touch the sky, and bring her down crashing to the floor in the lapse of a minute.

The world was made of light and darkness, her mother always said, the key of being happy was keeping yourself in the light.

Kisara walked to the canvas, every step full of intend. She knew what she was going to do.

-o-o-o-

**MARCH, 2016**

“It was very nice of you.” Kisara tells Seto while they put the dishes on their places.

Mokuba’s down, saying goodbye to Kohaku. He’d volunteered to help but both Seto and Kisara decided to let him go with his boyfriend.

“What?”

“Trying to get along with Mokuba’s boyfriend. To be honest I didn’t think you’d have that much success.”

“You underestimated me” Seto says around a smirk.

Kisara shrugs one shoulder “There’s a first time for everything.”

“You’ve never told Mokuba about us.” It isn’t a question.

“He’s your brother, Seto.”

“Scared he’ll take my side?” Seto leans against the counter. He looks too relaxed, fits too much in here.

Kisara studies him for a moment, his face is serious. He’s expecting an answer “He’s my best friend. I’d rather not losing him over something that happened seven years ago.”

“Don’t underestimate him, too.” Seto says, crossing his arms “He isn’t a kid anymore, you won’t lose him about something that happened seven years ago.”

Kisara freezes on the spot. Her arm’s stretched to put a cup on the cupboard above, her left foot isn’t touching the tiles anymore. It takes her a whole minute to wrap her head around it. Her arm is numb when she lowers it. “Thank you.”

Seto shrugs.

“You’ve grown up.” Kisara comments.

“So have you.”

“I’m glad.” It’s the first honest smile they share in seven years.

It’s worth the wait.


	4. When We Were Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You still look like a movie, you still sound like a song, my God this reminds me, when we were young.  
> -When We Were Young by Adele

**MARCH, 2016**

“Tomorrow’s the big day!” Kisara announces as she sits down on the table “Are you nervous?” she rests her arm in Mokuba’s shoulders.

“How were you during your first exhibition?” Mokuba deadpans, voice thick with sleep.

Kisara ruffles his hair, her focus now on the plate of pancakes in front of her “Wouldn’t know. Asuka got me so drunk I don’t really remember the afternoon before the exhibition.” She looks relaxed. Seto’s never seen her so at ease. Not even when they were younger.

“Please tell Asuka that if she tries the same with me, Kohaku will have her head.”

“She knows.” Kisara turns to Seto. He doesn’t lower his eyes. “Do you already have your attire for tomorrow, Seto?”

“I brought the suit with me.”

“Lucky you. I have to find something in the next ten hours.” Kisara pours herself a glass of milk. She tips the bottle in Seto’s direction, silently asking if he wants some. Seto nods.

“Didn’t you have a dress?” Mokuba asks with a milk mustache. It makes Seto’s heart jump. It’s nice to know there are things that don’t change.

“I had. Eimu texted me an hour ago a picture of her dress because she was super excited about it and turns out she bought the same dress, in a different color.”

Seto can almost hear the gears turning on Mokuba’s head. His little brother’s face splits with a smirk. “Well, unfortunately, I have to go to school today, but Seto actually has a great sense of style. Maybe he can help you finding a new dress? And don’t worry, is my treat.”

“Mokuba, we talked about this.”

Mokuba puts his hands above his ears “Can’t hear you!” he sticks his tongue out and Seto feels like he’s seventeen again.

Kisara rolls her eyes “Mokuba I can pay my own dress. So thanks, but no thanks.”

“You’re accepting this, Kiss. After all, is thanks to you that I got this chance.” He turns to Seto “So brother, take her to the mall and don’t let her pay. Okay?”

Seto shrugs “Why not?” It could be good. After all, before being his girlfriend, Kisara was his friend.

“Really?” Kisara looks truly shocked. It makes Seto smirk.

“If you want to.” Seto doesn’t miss the way Mokuba is losing it on his seat. He’s clearly excited, and Seto isn’t sure whether that’s a good or a bad thing.

-o-o-o-

“I can’t believe, I’m supposed to take fashion advices of someone who used to wear belts on his arms. And please don’t get me started in that trench coat.” Kisara laughs as she returns another dress to the shelves.

It’s the third Seto says no to.

“I can’t believe you’ve lived with Mokuba for two years and you still have no idea how to pick a dress on your own.”

“Really, and tell me, oh great fashion guru, what should I wear?” It lacks the bite of yesterday’s morning.

Seto looks around, thinking about it before he spots it. It’s a beautiful blue dress, with crystals making patterns and lines on it. The transparent long sleeves are decorated with the same crystals. It’s beautiful.

“Come with me.” Seto leads her by the hand to the dressers and ask for the dress. It isn’t until Kisara is changing that Seto realizes what he did.

He stares at his hand, thinking about how her smaller one felt draped on his. How the feeling hasn’t changed.

However he does realize how much things have changed when Kisara emerges. She stands like a queen, straight back and relaxed shoulders, her head held high. It’s so different to the way she carried herself back in high school. She smiles at him, like she’s perfectly aware of how gorgeous she looks.

Kisara’s grown up, so much.

The clerk comes to tell her how pretty she looks, turning her around and looking more honest than he expected. Kisara laughs with her and obliges when asked to hold her hair and turn to expose the deep cut the dress has on the back. It’s then that Seto notices Blue Eyes peeking above the cut. Its head and claws are perfectly visible, along with a peak of its wings. It’s stunning, and it helps keeping Seto’s eyes away from Kisara’s ass.

-o-o-o-

“I’ve been shopping with the wrong Kaiba all this time.” Kisara leans back on the wooden bench. “It usually takes me thirty tries and two very frustrating hours to find the perfect dress.” She clarifies.

“So you take back the comment about my fashion sense?”

Kisara throws her head back when she laughs, her smooth neck on display “Not in this life. Leather is never a good choice on summer, Seto”

The ice cream is starting to melt on his hand, Seto cleans it with the napkin “I thought it was Kaiba?”

Kisara grimaces, “Yeah, sorry about that. I had a good talk with my pillow, and Mokuba, and I realized I was being unfair.”

Seto nods. “You told Mokuba you were angry about our fight?”

“What else could I say? ‘Your brother and I used to be an item and I fucked up’ didn’t seem like a good option.”

There’s a drop of ice cream travelling down his knuckles. Seto barely notices it. “You fucked up?”

“Why do you look so surprised?”

“I always thought” a kid near them starts crying. The music on the mall invades his ears and Seto wonders how did he block it all out? “Nevermind.”

Kisara takes in their surroundings before falling back on the bench. “Sure.”

“How long have you worked for Pegasus?” Seto asks in an attempt to kill the awkward silence that’s fallen on them.

“Designing cards? About five years.”

“Really, and what cards should I thank you for?”

Kisara looks up “Well my team and I created and developed the cyber decks. Among other cards.” She says, pride dripping from her tone.

“Those are good cards.” He comments.

So maybe he loves that set of cards, and maybe thinks the design it’s one of his favorites. It barely means anything.

Kisara smiles “You know, your poker face is kind of crappy.”

“Yours isn’t better. I’m surprised Mokuba didn’t notice your angry face when you found me on your apartment.”

Kisara gasps dramatically “Excuse me but that ain’t fair, you took me by surprise.”

“So? You’re as transparent as the sleeves of that dress.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re as transparent as that glass door.”

Seto shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. He’d forgotten how easy was to banter with Kisara, how nice it was to rile her up and see the blush on her face.

-o-o-o-

**OCTOBER, 2008**

Kisara frowned at her shirt. Even though October had already settled, and was already leaving, the weather outside was nothing short to boiling and, yet, she had to wear her long sleeved shirt. Kisara rolled the sleeve up revealing the purple circle that ended inked on her skin after Takahisa decided it’d be an awesome idea to aim the baseball ball at her. Shinji had run his tongue through his lips while watching her shriek with pain. Ryo was right about her being lucky enough that it didn’t hit her on the head when the school was that deserted.

Kisara fixed her sleeve. She rolled her shoulders and head. This wasn’t a day to be angry or tense. Today was Seto’s birthday and Kisara had everything already set up. If she couldn’t celebrate it with him on the manor, she sure as hell was going to celebrate it on the classroom, around people who knew about them.

Kisara glared at her reflection “Stop.” She told herself. It wasn’t Seto’s fault that he couldn’t tell his brother about them. He was just trying to do the best for his little brother, as always.

She took a final look to her hair, small braids decorated it along with some ribbons. She’d put on a thin layer of eyeliner and some pink lipstick. Kisara stared at herself for a long moment. Since her mother’s death Kisara hadn’t really thought about herself as pretty, but now, looking at her reflection’s pink lips smiling at her, Kisara allowed herself to think that maybe she wasn’t the freak everyone told her she was.

It took her only five minutes into her daily walk to school to realize that maybe that wasn’t an entirely good thing. An infinite row of eyes followed her, and even though the number was large, only two emotions were reflected on them: annoyance or lust.

-o-o-o-

By the time Kisara made it to school, she was already hostage of her own anxiety. When Takahisa whistled on her right, that anxiety grew, becoming a black and twisted monster that clung to her back.

Takahisa and his minions had never acted when Seto was there. If they were acting… Kisara fastened her pace, praying that Seto would be in the classroom. He had to be. The ugly voice on her head that loved to see her fail was quick to remind her that he hadn’t promised to go or to even take a break from work or anything, so there was every chance that Seto decided not to come to school to finish work earlier and celebrate with Mokuba.

Kisara almost fell to her knees when she saw him there, sitting on the last row as always.

The autumn light fell off his shoulders and head and Kisara fell in love with him so hard it took her breath away. She bounced to his seat right next to hers, and let the tiny cake and the wrapped box she’d been carrying fall on his desk.

“What’s this?” He asked lifting both items.

“My present for you,” Kisara gave him her best, shiniest smile, and hoped he understood just how much she felt for him.

Seto carefully peeled off the wrapped, revealing a framed drawing of him with his signature monsters behind and Blue Eyes rising above them all.

“I wanted to do a full painting but I thought it might be hard to explain,” Kisara stammered. With every silent second, the feeling that this wasn’t such a good idea grew in her head. This was Seto Kaiba, the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world, a world champion in duels, and here Kisara was, trying to give him a damn drawing, no that she would’ve had time to do a painting for his birthday with the contest’s deadline so close, but still.

Just when she was about to open her mouth and apologize Seto talked “It’s amazing.”

The pure awe he said it with, made her freeze completely “You… you like it?”

“Yes.” Seto tore his eyes from the drawing, but his right hand caressed the frame, while the right held it. He looked at Kisara with so many emotions spilling from his eyes, her throat closed. “Thank you.”

Kisara smiled. She wanted to bounce in her spot and scream, but she resisted completely aware of every pair of eyes focused on them.

-o-o-o-

**MARCH, 2016**

“Remember how I said that Kohaku’s throwing a party for Mokuba?” Kisara asks on the ride back.

Seto takes his eyes off the blurred figures on the road. Kisara drives with steady hands and a confident face, it made it easy for him to space out “I remember.”

“It’s on a club near here. Mokuba’s class and our group reunited the money and rented it for today, so it’ll be all ours,” She smiles at him on a red light. Seto can’t help but reciprocate it. “Do you want to come? I know it’s not your thing, per se, but, since it’s for your brother I thought you’d want to know that you’re totally welcome there.”

Seto knows she’s right. To this day he still hates parties. And remembers the utter fiasco the prom was, at least the party part. And the other part only reminds him how much he used to love Kisara. And yet, this is about Mokuba, all this week is supposed to be about Mokuba, not about him falling for Kisara, again.

“Sure.”

“Awesome.” Kisara turns on the stereo after that, not loud enough to be a barrier, just enough for her to hum along the songs, a smile on her face. And if Seto spends the entire time gazing at her like an idiot, well that’s nobody’s business.

-o-o-o-

The club’s small, but there are only about fifty to eighty people on it right now, so it doesn’t feel suffocating. Yet. According to Kisara there are people who haven’t arrived, but it’s just a group of ten people who’ll come later because of their jobs.

There’s a small platform in the back, the speakers and other sound machines rest there, on the center there’s an unused base for a microphone. “It’s a karaoke bar,” Someone had shouted at some point.

“Mokuba’s coming, everyone take your spots!” Kisara yelled from the platform.

Seto isn’t sure was his ‘spot’ is supposed to be, so he just stands there until Kisara hauls him to take a place with her on the platform.

Mokuba’s voice comes as a whisper from the small hallway that connects to the club, Kisara snickers next to Seto. “It isn’t exactly a surprise party, but we want to congratulate him in group so we’re done with that part and he can enjoy the party later.” she explains him.

Seto just nods, not quite sure of how much sense it makes.

When Mokuba arrives is with Kohaku’s arm draped around his waist. Everyone jumps screaming ‘Congratulations’.

Mokuba’s eyes are shining when he thanks them. It’s emotional enough to distract Seto from Kohaku kissing the kid’s cheek.

“I’m proud of you” Seto says.

“Thank you brother” Mokuba hugs him again, this time a little tighter, making it har to breathe. It’s definitely worthy.

“You’ll do great tomorrow.” Kisara says.

“I better or we’ll have to also plan a funeral.”

Kohaku rolls his eyes “Don’t be a drama queen. Come on lets get something to drink.”

They nod to Kisara and Seto as they walk away.

“Are they always like that?” Seto can’t help but ask.

Kisara snorts “Tip of the iceberg I swear. I already told them any cavity I develop will be their fault,” The music changes to something faster. Kisara’s gaze goes to the speakers “Man, I love that song. I’ll go dancing but the bar’s there, if you want anything and don’t worry I’ll drive.”

Seto stares at her as she mingles with the people on the dance floor. Part of him is angry for not asking her if she wanted to dance with him, part of him knows that it was probably for the best. He can’t dance to save his life and asking would result in a way too awkward moment that would probably ruin the evening. He stays there, not quite in the dance floor but not exactly out, watching as Kisara twirls and swings her hips. She looks weightless. It reminds him of the prom, how she and Anzu had danced for a while. How they’d looked like nymphs. It was magical, just like now.

Kisara falters for a second after catching his eyes. Seto panics for a moment, but then she smiles and runs her tongue through her lips, her movements stronger and more aggressive.

-o-o-o-

“Getting bored?” Kisara falls on the seat next to Seto about an hour later.

He’s on the bar, his hand playing with a glass of coke. “Parties have never been my thing,” He shrugs.

Kisara uses the back of her hand to wipe the sweat on her forehead. It makes her hair cling to it “Yeah, I remember. Touya, can I please have a coke, too?” The bartender shouts his agreement before bringing her a glass “Thanks. Woah the place is crazy. I’m so glad we could get it. Everyone’s having a blast, especially Mokuba,” she elbows him, pointing to the direction where Mokuba and his boyfriend are dancing.

Seto can’t help but smile. He’s glad Mokuba’s happy here; it does smart a little that he’s happy _here_ but, more than all, Seto’s happy for him.

Kisara laughs beside him. She seems to be high in endorphins, her face flushed scarlet red. She, too, seems to be happy _here_. It makes Seto wonder what’s so different _here_ , besides the fact that he’s not here.

Or maybe that’s it, maybe he actually screws everyone’s lives to the point they leave. It’s the first time in four years he’s contemplated that, but, being sat on a stall in this club, it feels truer than ever.

“Seto, relax,” Kisara’s hand on his shoulder brings him back to the present “I can hear you thinking.”

“No, you can’t.” He states.

“Yes, I can, now come on, we’re dancing until I wear your brain off,” Kisara barely gives him any time to react before she pulls him to the dance floor with him.

“I don’t…”

“Yeah, you don’t dance, been there, done that,” Kisara interrupts as she gets impossibly close to Seto and starts to dance again. Seto doesn’t move a muscle, more out of shock than any want to fight “Listen, Seto. I’m happy, I’m alive, and you’re here, and you owe me a dance, okay? So loosen up.” She smiles, her body sneaking close to his, so there’s barely a centimeter between them.

Seto frowns, but then it hits him. He’d promised Kisara a dance when she asked him to prom, and then proceeded to sulk the entire time until Kisara had come up with the hills plan.

He sighs and grabs Kisara’s hips, starting to sway with her. It’s a little awkward, but if Kisara cares about it, she doesn’t show it. Her slim body’s pressed against his, and her hair tickles his hands where they hold her, and it’s great, it’s the lightest Seto’s felt in years.

“Told you it wouldn’t be that bad.” Kisara says at the end of the song. Is a way out, he realizes.

“Could be worse.” Seto smirks, Kisara just laughs, letting him go.

He finds Mokuba and Kohaku on the bar when he gets back. They’re looking at each other, oblivious to anything around them.

“I know it’s our tradition, but my brother came all the way here and I don’t want to leave him alone, you know?” Mokuba says.

Kohaku grabs his hand, gently caressing it “Mokuba, relax. I get it. It’s your brother.”

“I know, but still I feel…”

“Hush. I get it, really.” Kohaku shrugs a shoulder “Besides, I have you most days, I can let him have you today, even if I know it’s our tradition to spend nights like these together.”

“On the other hand, I had him for eighteen years.” Seto interrupts, he slides on the stall next to Mokuba “So I can do without him for just tonight.”

Mokuba’s eyes are wide as plates, just like when they were kids and Seto caught him doing something he shouldn’t. “Brother…” he squeaks before clearing his throat “No, it’s fine, you came all the way from Domino to spend time together.”

“And we’ve done that. Mokuba when I came unannounced I was perfectly aware that you might have plans already and I never meant to interfere with them. So if you two want to go out together, then don’t worry about me.”

Mokuba bites his lip. He’s tempted, his eyes go from Seto to Kohaku and his boyfriend just shrugs. “Whatever you want, Mokuba. Really.” Mokuba tightens his hold on Kohaku’s hand and nods.

“You’re the best, brother.” The kid says, standing to hug Seto for the third time tonight. It doesn’t grow old

Seto pats his little brother’s back, relishing on the feeling of having him so close after all these years. “Have fun. But not too much,” He teases.

Mokuba laughs above all the noise “Don’t know about that Seto, you already sent me to his house,” Kohaku must have taught him how to wiggle his eyebrows like that because Seto’s completely sure he never saw him do it before.

“And I can take it back.” Seto threatens mockingly.

“Thank you.” Kohaku’s eyes are full of gratitude, and Seto’s so, so thankful with whatever deity that put these two together.

“Take care of him.” Seto says.

“Always.”

And for the first time in his life, Seto believes it.

He watches them leave, hand in hand the perfect picture of happiness.

“Where are they going?” Kisara’s voice makes him jump.

“Back to Kohaku’s place, I suppose.”

Kisara arches an eyebrow “I thought Mokuba would forego that part since you’re here.”

“I told them to go.” He turns to the clock, it’s barely eleven pm, but he feels drained. “I should go, too.”

Kisara regards the dance floor with one last look before turning to Seto “I’ll drive.” She starts walking without giving Seto the chance to answer.

Seto purses his lips, sprinting to catch up with her. This isn’t what he’d meant “You don’t have to drive me there,” She was having fun and he didn’t mean to take that away from her… again.

“I want to.” Kisara climbs the car slowly, pointedly looking at him.

Seto smiles, going for the other door.

He chooses to believe her and maybe he wants that, too.

-o-o-o-

**DECEMBER, 2008**

It was starting to get ridiculous. Really. Every place Kisara went seemed to be suddenly infested by Takahisa and his friends. Their girlfriends were sometimes with them. Kisara had thought that, now that they were happily paired with someone else, they’d leave her alone. How naïve of her.

It had only made things worse. Somehow they convinced the girls that Kisara was the one trying to get into their pants, and, even more puzzling, somehow the girls believed them.

It was the strangest thing ever. All of a sudden everyone glared at her at school, and Yugi and his gang had to be with her every moment Seto wasn’t, and when no one was around Kisara usually ended with sprained ankles, wrists, the occasional paint, and, right now, soaked wet even though the thermometer was in negative numbers.

“Are they insane?” Anzu was doing her best to dry the shivering girl with the cheap paper towels the school had “You could get pneumonia in this weather, what the hell were they thinking?”

Kisara tried not to sob, to let Anzu believe all the shaking was due to the cold and not because she was crying.

“Oh, Kisara, I’m so sorry.” Anzu patted her shoulder. Kisara just nodded. “Maybe you should tell Kaiba-kun, he seems to care about you a lot.”

Kisara shook her head earnestly “No, I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“You won’t.” Anzu’s voice was low and soothing. It always made her feel better.

“I just don’t understand why…”

Anzu gave Kisara her spare uniform “I don’t know, but you should tell Seto before this gets worse.”

“Worse than this? I would like to see that.” Kisara took the garments “Thank you, for everything.”

“No problem.” Anzu gave her another sad smile before leaving her so she could change.

And maybe Anzu was right. Maybe she should tell Seto.

After all, there was no way this could get worse, but there was also no way it could get better by itself, those three jerks had managed to take the wariness her appearance caused by default and turn it into full on hate.

Kisara decided to do it that night after work.

It was when she arrived to her house to change that she saw it. It was a white letter in formal font. It had the Illusion Industries logo in red ink on the back and the front. Her hands trembled as she put it on her nightstand. She needed to change and see Seto. She didn’t have time to read and assimilate the content of this letter. And yet, there was nothing in this world she wanted so much as finding out her place in the contest.

Kisara put the letter on the nightstand, leaving it with difficulty and changing. She could feel the flue on the back of her throat already, her nose itching from inside, if she didn’t solve this right now those idiots would end killing her, either by accident or not. She heaved a sigh, leaving the room. The letter a constant reminder on the back of her mind.

When she arrived to Seto’s office, after asking the receptionist if Mokuba was in the building as per usual, Kisara stopped, her hand on the knob.

She didn’t want to tell Seto about Takahisa, she didn’t want Seto to get in trouble because of her. But she couldn’t bear another three months of this. She just couldn’t. With a new resolve, Kisara pushed the door open. And her resolved shattered to pieces.

“You’re the lawyer, get me out of this.” Seto was yelling at someone on the phone. He didn’t even look up when Kisara entered “I don’t care. Do I look like I have the time, or the need to waste my life on that? I don’t give a fuck if you have to buy the judge and the entire court.” He pinched the bridge of his nose “I know that, but I’m on legal age already, and I have proved all the damn year that I can take care of both my brother and I without affecting my studies, my company or my position as a duelist. This shouldn’t even be a fucking problem anymore.” Kisara stood frozen on the door, she’d closed it after entering and now she wasn’t sure she could get out without being noticed, so she did nothing. “I don’t care what that bitch has to say. Remind the judge that it’s because of her that we ended up in the orphanage and be done with it. And I’m serious about buying the entire damn court, this stupidity has lasted too much already.” Seto hung up. He paced a couple times, like a caged animal.

“Is there something wrong?” Kisara asked, uncomfortable with watching Seto without his knowledge.

“How long have you been here?” Seto scowled. It was the first time he talked to her with that icy tone and Kisara couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through her back.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop it’s just…”

“You did it anyway.” Kisara bit her lip. How did this end so wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

Seto sighed “Whatever.” He walked close to her, sitting on the couch.

Kisara watched him for a moment before doing the same.

“What happened?” She tried again after he’d stayed silent.

“My stupid ‘aunt’ wants to fight for Mokuba’s custody. It’s useless and she won’t get it at this point. I don’t know why she’s even trying, except to screw with me.” He said with his head resting on his hands, his elbows on his knees. His fingers shielded his eyes from her, but Kisara could tell how angry and tired he felt just by his tone.

Kisara looked at her hands. Today, with telling Seto everything in mind, she’d decided to go without makeup on her body. The small scars on her hands from where she’d fallen on the roses while escaping Takahisa were visible if you knew what to search for. She curled them into fists, hoping that, in the dim light, Seto wouldn’t notice.

“What a waste of time,” Seto regarded her with a puzzled look. Kisara smiled confidently “I have never seen someone as responsible as you. To even consider that they could take Mokuba away from you is truly preposterous. She must be after money but, still, can you even imagine the hell Mokuba would unleash on whoever took him away from you?” She relished on the tiny curl of Seto’s lips “That person would end up paranoid from watching their back all the time. I bet they’d end up with pink hair the first week.” She nudged Seto with her shoulder.

Seto studied the carpet silently and for a minute Kisara actually feared she’d failed. But then his face lighted up and she knew he’d accepted the help she was trying to provide “A week? You underestimate Mokuba. I’d give him three days before that hideous woman is running to the hills screaming about the antichrist or something.”

Kisara full on laughed at that. “She’d probably end up with PTSD you know?”

“And with pedophobia.”

“Wait there’s a name for it?”

“Of course there is. Every phobia has a name.”

Kisara laughed and rejoiced in the chuckled Seto gave.

“It’ll be alright,” She told him after he dropped her on her house. And she meant it… for him anyway.

-o-o-o-

Her father was waiting for her in the living room when she opened the door. Michiru was perched on the loveseat next to him. Her father deciding to tell her about their relationship was actually worse than them hiding and taking her for an idiot.

Kisara suppressed the urge to groan and kill them all “Good evening,” she said.

“Hello Kisara,” Her father greeted her and Michiru waved her hand.

“I’ll be in my room.” Kisara said after an awkward silence.

“Wait Kisara.” her father’s words kept her at the bottom of the stairs “Darling, is everything fine?” Oh no, her father only ever used pet names when he was readying the field for a talk.

Kisara looked from Michiru to her father “Perfect, dad.” Just freaking perfect.

“Are you sure? You’ve been a little off lately.”

Kisara did frown at that “I’m fine dad. Maybe I was just stressed whenever you saw me, but I’m fine.” It took a major effort to not say anything else.

“I talked to the hospital and they say you’ve been seeing your mother at least thrice per week, Kisara.”

“Look, I have to get up early and I’m really tired, so if we could do this another time”- or never- “it’d be awesome.” She turned around, climbing the stairs “Good night!” She yelled above her shoulder.

It was just out of willpower that she kept from slamming the door shut, or yelling about Michiru being there.

“You corner me with your affair, now that’s cheap.” Kisara buried her head on her pillow, swallowing the scream that wanted to come up. All this week, hell all this year if she was being honest, was horrible. Kisara didn’t feel like she couldn’t deal with this anymore, she didn’t know what to do.

Her gaze landed on the letter. With everything that had happened, she’d forgotten about it.

She carefully opened it, her hands shaking with every movement. Her eyes began to water as she read it. She’d won the third place, Kisara had actually made it to the top three of the whole country. And not only that, she’d won a 50% scholarship to study art in one of the best universities in Japan.

…Which was six cities away…

Kisara bit her lip. If she left, then she’d leave her friends, and family and Seto behind. And that hurt, but this was her biggest opportunity ever.

Kisara quickly wrote an e-mail to II accepting the scholarship, if she decided not to leave then she’d just decline and deal with it, but life was hell right now, and maybe she could talk to Seto, and maybe everything would work out in the end.

For the first time in two months, Kisara fell asleep with a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, shit's about to hit the fan...  
> If you've stuck with me till here, then thank you and I love you so so much.


	5. Intertwined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m afraid of the things in my brain  
> But we can stay here, and laugh away the fear  
> -Intertwined by Dodie Clark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, before you proceed, I need you to READ THIS.  
> This chapter contains a kind of detailed description of a rape attempt, and I don’t want you to get triggered, I really don’t, so proceed with caution and, also, I’ll put a sign where it starts and where it ends so you can skip it if you want. Don’t worry, you won’t be missing anything important since Kisara will kind of talk about it later in this chapter, so you can skip it if it isn’t your cup of tea.  
> This will be the sign: XXioiXX

**MARCH, 2009**

“I still can’t believe you convinced Kaiba-kun to come,” Anzu yelled on Kisara’s ear so the girl could hear her above the sound of the music.

“It wasn’t easy,” Kisara laughed “What I can’t believe is that he’s actually standing less than six feet from Jounouchi and hasn’t started a fight.”

“What I can’t believe it’s that he’s less than five feet from Yugi and he hasn’t asked for a duel.” They both laughed at that, their movements never faltering.

“You’re really good at this, Anzu,” Kisara complimented her dance partner after the third song. Everyone’s eyes were on them, and for the first time in years, they weren’t glaring at her.

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” Anzu sneaked her way behind Kisara, her movements slowing in synchrony with the beat of the music.

“Thanks, but I’m not the one who’s leaving to become a dancer. Are you excited?” Anzu twirled Kisara around, both of them giggling when the movement was a little too strong.

“Try terrified,” Anzu admitted with a nervous smile on her red lips.

Kisara slowed down her movement so she could see Anzu in the eye “You’ll do great. Just because your friends won’t be there in the flesh doesn’t mean you’ll be alone. Technology has evolved a lot, imagine what it will do later. Especially with Seto around,” their eyes went to said brunette, who stared back at them. Kisara just shook her head while they both giggled “Believe me, it’ll be as if we were there.”

Anzu smiled softly at her dancing partner. “You’re amazing, Kiss. And yes I guess you’re right, I just hope I’ll be enough.”

“You will. I have no doubt, all artist doubt themselves, but believe me I recognize talent when I see it and girl you’re quite gifted.”

Anzu took her hand, twirling Kisara before bringing her closer, “Thank you,” she said honestly “Have you decided what you want to do after high school?”

Kisara blushed. She hadn’t told anyone about the scholarship and hated keeping secrets, especially to Anzu, and Ryo, but if she told them, Kisara knew for certain they’d try to convince her to go, and she couldn’t do that “I got accepted in Domino’s university for the business management course.” It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t what she _wanted_ to do per se.

Anzu frowned “I didn’t know you wanted to study business management. I thought you wanted to go for art.”

Kisara chewed her lip; well, she wanted to go for art more than anything else, and yes, she was aware of how much of a hypocrite she was being by telling Anzu she’d be fine all alone in America when Kisara herself didn’t want to be alone in a university that was just a couple cities from here, but… Kisara sighed, she casted a glance at Seto who was at the punch table still staring at her with such wonder in his eyes, like this was the first time he noticed just how much he loved her. It gave her the strength to tell Anzu what she’d been telling herself since she took the test for business management “Yes but I also want to stay here, you know. Besides I can keep doing art as a hobby.”

Anzu slowed her movements, her brown eyes meeting Kisara’s blue ones “Kisara, I’m going to tell you something a wise woman once told me:” Anzu put the most serious face she could muster “All artist doubt themselves, but believe me I recognize talent when I see it and girl you’re quite gifted.”

Kisara doubled with laughter at that “Oh my God, I’m surrounded by dorks.”

Anzu chuckled “I wonder why.”

Kisara shoved her shoulder, laughing above the music. Her eyes were drawn once again to Seto, he was like a magnet, Kisara’s very center. This time he wasn’t looking at her, but rather shaking his head at something Jounochi said. The sight sobered her quickly “It’s just me or Seto looks miserable?”

Anzu glanced above her shoulder “He’s sulking. He’ll survive,” the brunette quickly brushed it off.

Kisara pursed her lips before she stopped dancing completely “I’m sorry Anzu, I had a great time, but I brought Seto to spend a good last night, not to make him suffer.”

Anzu patted her arm, a frown on her pretty red lips. She sighed before finally conceding with a smile “Well then make sure to have fun,” She said with a cheeky wink.

Kisara chuckled “I will.”

They both went to where Seto and the others were and Kisara smiled at him before saying her goodbyes to the others.

All in all, it took them less than five minutes to end in Seto’s car.

“I thought you were excited about coming tonight,” Seto started once they were inside.

“I was,” Kisara admitted, looking wistfully at the lights coming from the gymnasium.

He frowned “I didn’t ask you to leave.”

Kisara turned studying Seto’s posture. His shoulders were tense, just like his jaw. It took her just a moment to realize what was wrong. He thought she was blaming him. “I know,” She gave him a sweet smile “But I wanted to come tonight to have a good last night on high school with you. I can celebrate later with my friends, but tonight I want to stay with you,” Kisara rejoiced in the small tug on Seto’s lips, the way his body relaxed “Besides, who knows how long it would be before you and Jonouchi started a fight, or worse, a duel.”

Seto shook his head, smile still in place, before starting the car. “So what did you have in mind?”

Kisara grinned “Just trust me, okay?”

Seto nodded solemnly.

Kisara watched as the school faded away. Part of her really wanted to stay, dance some more with Anzu and have some face time with Ryo, even though he was in his house. She wanted to make fun of the decorations with Honda and chitchat a little more with Yugi. But that could wait. She could see them tomorrow, or the day after, and they’d all be together, eat a burger and do all of those things she wanted to do. Her eyes went back to Seto’s face, this was where she wanted to be right now. Who she wanted to be with right now. Because not even all tomorrows would be enough to spend them with Seto, especially like this, without a computer or a clock between them. Kisara smiled, guiding Seto to the other side of the city.

There was a hill where Kisara’s mother would take her so they could paint the city together, it was one of her favorite places. It didn’t take them long to arrive.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Kisara said, her eyes glued to Seto’s face and the stars reflected on his eyes.

“It’s a pleasant view.” He said at last, once the surprise had worn off.

Kisara exited the car. She waited until Seto did the same and until he nodded his permission, to climb on the hood “My mother used to bring me here to paint when I was little,” she said, her eyes examining the city below her. It hadn’t changed that much since the last time she came here.

“You two were close.” He stated.

Kisara nodded “My father used to be out almost all the time because of his work, there were times where I wouldn’t see him in months, so my mother took me out and taught me how to paint,” she still remembered the first time her mother brought her here like it was yesterday. She’d been eight and the sun had shined so bright that day, not a single cloud had been visible. They stayed there until the night fell and returned home with their clothes and faces full of paint, a smile stretching both of their lips. 

“My father used to work in a laboratory.” Seto started, tone calm, almost peaceful; unlike Kisara’s, his eyes were fixed on the stars “The typical nine to five shift. My mother loved to bake and sometimes, after I turned seven, she would let me help her.” Kisara watched him quietly. It was very rare when Seto talked about his past and she didn’t want to ruin the moment, as much as the image of a chubby, tiny Seto with flour on his cheeks made her want to squeal “They met during a chess tournament, so it was a shared passion of them. I learnt by watching them.”

Kisara’s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard but she didn’t care, this was the happiest she’d been in years “I learnt to paint by watching my mother too. She showed me all of her paintings and drawings, I remember falling in love with them. And I’m not even joking, you know, I really fell in love with those pieces, I’d sneak at midnight just to gaze at them and if I had to do other things that didn’t allow me to see them even if it was from the corner of my eye, I’d spend the entire time thinking about them, remaking them in my head. My father got worried, but my mom just smiled and taught me how to do it myself. I thought that was magic until I was like eight.”

Seto took her hand, gently twisting it to admire every crease, every spot “My mother would get me into all the tournaments my age allowed her to. At first I thought it was so I could prove myself to them, but I once heard my parents talking and she said it was because of how much I enjoyed challenges, and how much I loved to win.”

“That hasn’t changed.” Kisara said softly, her thumb played with Seto’s hand every time it came into contact with it. “I’d have liked to know you back then, but” she lifted her head and leaned in, so there would be just a couple inches between them “I’m so glad that I met you, no matter how or when, I’m just glad I got to know you.” Seto tried to avert his eyes but she stopped him with a finger on his chin “I love you, Seto. And I will never stop being grateful that our paths crossed.”

“I love you, too.” Seto said, before leaning in to kiss her.

It wasn’t the first time he said it, but every single time struck Kisara like the first one.

They smiled at each other once the kiss ended, and Kisara decided to push her luck and rested her head on his chest. To her delight, Seto didn’t pull away, nor did he freeze. He actually put his arm around her and kept talking. Sometimes about memories, sometimes about the stars. Kisara just inhaled his scent deeply, wishing the night would never end.

-o-o-o-

“Thank you for driving me back.” Kisara tightened her hand around Seto’s.

“I wasn’t going to let you walk back alone,” he chuckled, intertwining his fingers with Kisara.

“I love you,” she breathed slowly, unwilling to move away from him.

Seto rolled his eyes amused “I love you too.”

In that moment, nothing in the world could have stopped Kisara from kissing him until they were both out of breath. ”I should go,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on Seto’s.

“Yes, you should.” Seto leaned in to kiss her again.

Kisara laughed into the kiss “I really should go,” and yet, she made no move to get away from Seto.

Seto tugged on her hand “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Five o’clock it’s fine for you?”

“Perfect.”

Kisara smiled before leaning in for a last kiss. “See you tomorrow,” she sang, exiting the car and closing the door. She waved and Seto waved back before starting the engine. Kisara watched the car leave until it disappeared through the corner.

She stepped into her house, a small bounce on her steps. She could see it so clearly now, these were going to be the best vacations of her life, and when college started, Seto’d still be there and they’d be together. Art didn’t have to disappear, but Seto was right, she could easily make a living out of business management, but only a handful of talented people could make a living out of art. All in all, it was actually just a matter of being practical. There was no need to trade one for the other, just to prioritize.

It was so rational, so obvious, she couldn’t believe how long it took her to realize it. Art… what was she thinking? Kisara smiled at her own naivety. How childish and innocent it sounded now that she thought about it. “Four years of college with Seto by my side, how could I even think there’d be anything better than that?” she thought.

Kisara was so wrapped up in her own mind that she didn’t notice Michiru’s car on the garage, nor did she pay any mind to the lights being on.

She just opened the door gently so as not to disturb her father, who at this hour was most likely asleep.

Kisara made it to the second floor humming and dancing, all without incidents. But just when she was about to enter her room she heard the voices.

“So when are we going to tell her?” It was Michiru’s voice. Kisara padded to her father’s bedroom. The door was ajar, letting her hear everything.

“I don’t know Michiru,” her father answered. He sounded tired, “She’s going to start college soon, and I don’t know how she’ll take this.”

Kisara frowned, leaning closer “It will start to show in a couple weeks. We’ve been avoiding this for too long, Kakeru, we should tell her tomorrow, she’ll be happy and sated after her prom.”

“I don’t think all the dancing in the world will make a difference when I tell her that I disconnected Rumiko.”

Kisara froze on her spot.

Surely she’d heard wrong.

She must have heard wrong.

Yes, that was it. There was no other explanation.

Her father couldn’t have… No. No way. He wouldn’t dare.

“Kisara.” Her father looked at her surprised.

At some point Kisara had thrown the door open but she couldn’t really muster the power to focus on when or how.

“You…” Kisara opened her mouth but nothing else came. Her father had disconnected her mother, even after he repeatedly told her it was her decision to make, after Kisara told him, time after time, that she didn’t want him to do it.

She looked at the pair with disdain and disgust, feeling bile on her throat. She looked at them and didn’t recognize them.

Michiru and her weren’t besties, and Kisara didn’t like her on principle, but she’d respected her as an artist, because despite all her flaws, Rumiko was a talented pianist. Her relationship with her father was unsteady at best, but she’d always considered him a good man, a brave man who had saved hundreds of life during the last tsunami.

But right now all she could see were two monsters who had killed her mother. And nothing they say could ever change that.

She ran down the stairs, taking her spare pair of shoes from the door. There was no way she was going to make it all the way to the Kaiba manor in high heels.

Her father’s pleads for her to come back fell on deaf ears as Kisara ran into the city, the chill air biting her skin. She barely noticed it.

Kisara shook with wrath and pent up energy. She was so angry she didn’t care about Mokuba asking why she was there, she didn’t care about anything. She was going to stay with Seto and then he was going to help her, Kisara knew he would.

She was going to destroy her father’s career just like he destroyed her family.

“He isn’t even my father, he’s nothing but my mother’s murderer,” she muttered under her breath.

“Talking alone, sweetheart?” Kisara’s blood ran cold. Among all the anger and hurt, it hadn’t occurred to her that going out in the middle of the night dressed in a small cocktail dress was definitely a bad idea. Takahisa’s voice let her know just how wrong of her it had been not to think about it.

Kisara turned around slowly, praying with all her soul that he were alone.

He wasn’t.

Shinji smiled at her, his eyes bloodshot red and unfocused. He was high and, judging by the smell, Takahisa was drunk... Fuck.

**XXioiXX**

“What are you doing here all alone?” Takahisa leaned closer his eyes roaming her body “Don’t tell me your boyfriend was stupid enough to let such a pretty doll wander around in the middle of the night dressed like that.”

“Listen, I don’t want any problems, okay? I’m just taking a walk,” her voice was shaky with fear. These guys were dangerous enough while sober, and Kisara really didn’t want to know how irrational they’d get when inebriated.

“I don’t know,” Shinji drawled “Such a well-dressed whore must be looking for something.”

Takahisa laughed “Now, my friend’s right. No one would go out dressed like that just because.”

Kisara took her surroundings in. They were on a deserted street, a barely working lamp above them and a trinket store on the left. This was bad.

“Can’t we just call it even? You’ve tortured me through the whole damn year and all I did was defending a friend,” Kisara snapped. She was sick of this. Sick of everyone hurting her for no reason.

“We could,” Takahisa agreed “But you’ll see, we don’t end up even, ever, we always win.”

Kisara glared at them before sucker punching Takahisa on the kidney. The dark haired boy fell to his knees, desperately clutching his stomach. Shinji didn’t even glance his way. He quickly backed Kisara against the wall. A sharp knife pressed against her throat.

“Listen whore, if you try to hit me, I’m going to decorate that pretty face,” he roughly placed his free hand on her waist, slowly moving it up “You don’t want that, now do you?”

His grin was maniacal, this boy was insane and there was no doubt in Kisara’s mind he’d actually make good of his threat.

Kisara slowly shook her head.

“Great, then we’ll just have some fun.” He leaned in, his tongue licking a stripe on her ear, his left hand slowly cupping her breast.

Kisara just stood there, body shaking and mind black, not sure of what to do. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be just a sick joke.

But the sharpness of the knife was real, as was the wet warm of Shinji’s tongue. A sob escaped her lips. She’d never been so scared and disgusted in her entire life. “Please,” she pleaded. It sounded pathetic even to her.

“Oh, come on precious, there’s no need to cry.” Shinji gathered the tears with his knife making Kisara’s heart stop for a second.

His left hand traveled down this time and Kisara couldn’t help the chant of pleads that fell from her mouth. In exchange, Shinji hit her with the butt of his knife hard enough to make her ears ring.

Kisara vaguely heard a “What the fuck?” being said before someone tried to pull Shinji away from her.

At this point it didn’t matter who it was, Kisara took the chance to try to run, her vision was blurry but she knew she managed more than a couple of steps before she heard a grunt and something hitting the floor. A second later she was being slammed hard into the shop’s crystal door.

White pain flashed through her mind overpowering her.

It stung so sharply. Kisara wasn’t even sure how it was possible to feel so many layers of pain. Every muscle on her back screamed in pain, but the cuts the glass had made on it were like hot iron and she could feel each and every single one. The back of her head hurt from the fall and the few shards that had dug into her skull. Neither her legs nor her arms had come out clean but the pain in her back shadowed anything else.

It took Kisara a couple moments later to noticed the alarm of the store wailing with a smashing force. It surprised her that she didn’t hear it before. Now she could hear Takahisa yelling above the siren. A white, searing pain overtook everything else again, the added weight of Shinji above her was pushing the broken shards deeper into her back.

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt so much.

It was all her mind could think of. It hurt so much. She wanted Seto to come and save her. She wanted her mother to come and kiss her forehead and tell her everything was fine. But more than anything, she wanted to stop lying on the pool of warm blood she was in.

Shinji, however, seemed completely unfazed by any of this. He started cutting down Kisara’s dress. In his state, the blond miscalculated more than once, cutting Kisara’s flesh along with the dress. Takahisa’s weak attempt to get Shinji away from her woke Kisara up, her adrenaline shooting up as she took one big shard of glass and pushed it as deep as she could on the boy’s almost naked torso. Kisara wasn’t sure whether he’d been using the white thank top since they met or if he’d taken another shirt off, but she was grateful for the almost nakedness of the guy above her. The shard dove into her hand painfully but the adrenaline blocked it enough for Kisara to just push it deeper.

She didn’t have the necessary strength left to shove him off her, his blood mixing with hers on the floor, both making a mess on her dress.

“Damn, Seto really liked this dress,” she thought, dismayed at the idea of throwing it away.

**XXioiXX**

Kisara let her head fall to the side, the sight of Takahisa losing it on the threshold greeted her. The guy was shaking, his face bloody and purple, starting to swell.

“Is… is he dead?” Takahisa asked with a trembling voice.

Kisara looked down at his legs, the idiot had wetted himself.

She didn’t answer, just eyed the mess they’d made and part of her pitied the poor owner who would’ve to clean all of this.

Unconsciousness finally won over her when the patrols started to arrive. And the last thing she remembered was someone pulling her into a stretcher.

-o-o-o-

**MARCH, 2016**

“Do you want something to drink? Since you know, we stayed sober the entire party.” Kisara is already going into the kitchen and taking out a couple of glass bottles.

“If you want.”

“Ok, but if I drink, you drink. Drinking alone isn’t my thing.”

All Seto can do is watch as she starts mixing ingredients and preparing some kind of beverage. She goes to the refrigerator and the other shelves more than once.

“Too much just for drinks, don’t you think?” He leans in the island, his eyes glued to Kisara’s hands.

“Michiru used to say ‘You either do it right or don’t do it at all’ while she was teaching me, and it kind of got stuck in my brain.”

Seto frowned. Now that was unusual “Michiru isn’t the woman your father was having an affair with?”

Kisara chuckles while putting ices on the metal vase “Yes, she also happens to be my stepmother now,” The way Kisara mixes everything is nothing short to violent.

“And you’re obviously fine with it from what I see.”

Kisara shrugs “I don’t particularly care, I haven’t seen them in like seven years, except for my sister’s birthdays but I only stay that day.”

“You have a sister?”

Kisara stops pouring the drinks in their glasses to look at Seto “Are we playing 20 questions? Because if we are I’ve got a few myself,” She gives him a half smirk before picking up both glasses and walking to the living room. She settles them on the coffee table and sits on the small loveseat.

Seto seats next to her, putting the jar with the rest of the beverage next to the glasses “I would like that.”

Kisara’s eyebrows shoot up “Really? You, Seto Kaiba, would like to play 20 questions with me? Now I have officially seen it all.”

She takes a drink of her glass and Seto imitates her. It’s strong and acid, with some salt from the border of the glass. He takes another sip.

“What do you want to know?” Seto prompts.

Kisara rests her elbows on her knees, her left hand supporting her chin while she contemplates the big thing Seto’s offering here. At the end, she settles for “What did you and Mokuba really fought about? I mean I know Mokuba’s version, but I want to hear yours.”

Seto finishes the first half of the glass before answering. The alcohol makes him feel both heavier and lighter, numbing him slowly “I felt like he was abandoning me.” The ‘like you’ lingers in the air between them.

Kisara grimaces, hearing it perfectly “Okay… Your turn.”

There so much Seto wants to ask but he’s not sure either of them are drunk enough for it, so he goes for the easiest one “You have a sister?”

Kisara nods “She turns seven on September “

“Michiru was pregnant when you left.” It’s not a question.

“Did you ever have another partner?” Kisara asks, ignoring his previous statement.

Seto blinks at the sudden question but decides to just go with it rather than trying to push the subject “No, well aside from when I had a thing with Anzu almost two years ago but…”

“Wait! Anzu like in Mazaki Anzu? You’re kidding me,” Kisara looks at Seto like he’s grown another head.

Seto purses his lips “It was a fleeting thing, not even a night-long thing.”

“Okay, you gotta ask me whatever question you had planned because I NEED all the details on that.”

Seto sighs, there’s one question that’s been plaguing him for years, the one question he can’t seem to find an answer to, no matter how much he tries “Why didn’t you tell me about Takahisa?” Seto can already feel his hands growing numb, his head a little heavier as he refills his glass.

Kisara stares at him, her mouth agape and her eyes wide “How… who told you about Takahisa?” Seto gives her a look. It’s not her turn “Wow, I haven’t heard that name in almost a decade.” Kisara downs the rest of her glass, pouring more from the jar before answering “I thought about telling you, and I was going to, really, but just when I was going to tell you, you got the call that your aunt was trying to win Mokuba’s custody and I backed off.”

Seto’s eyes go wide “That’s why you went to the building that day.”

Kisara shrugs “You never asked why I was there.”

The beverage is a light green, the broken ice just sinks on it “I never imagined-”

“They never did anything in front of you, you couldn’t have known.” Seto nods. It feels like an excuse. “Now, tell me, when did this thing with Anzu happen?”

Seto sighs again, but he’s secretly thankful for the change of topic. He’s always blamed Kisara for leaving, but remembering what she had to go through without him knowing tends to twist things on his mind. “It happened almost two years ago while I was on America on a meeting with Pegasus. Anzu had a rehearsal near there and somehow Jonouchi convinced me of taking him there and attending on top of it all, that stupid mutt.”

“Wait a second. Since when are you and Jou friends? What is going on with the world?” Kisara laughs while taking another sip of her drink.

“It’s not your turn, and I’m not finished.” Kisara waves her hand apologetically, the drunk smile on her face kind of ruins the effect “Anyway, we went out and Jounouchi fell asleep on the couch, Anzu and I started to talk and things escalated.” That’s the simple version, he supposes, but there’s really no way to explain to Kisara, someone who never met Atem, the big hole the pharaoh left on all of them. Or how in need of closure both he and Anzu had been. Mostly because Seto himself has never been sure as to how that conversation led to them kissing, or how kissing had led to other things. There’s also the fact that Anzu had been stunning during her presentation and Seto was a little smitten by her that day, but that was entirely another story.

“Well, now that escalated fast.” Kisara fills Seto’s glass again before doing the same with hers.

Seto watches as the drink settles on the glass unsure of what else he could ask. He looks at the walls, searching like they hold the answer. Surprisingly enough, they do. There’s a small drawing of the university’s flag just beside Kisara’s door “When did you decide to come here? I thought you were going to attend Domino’s University and go for business management.”

Kisara chuckles at that “No, you told me that was the best idea and I went with it.”

“You lied,” he deadpans.

“No, I actually was going to go there, take a couple art courses outside school and be miserable forever.” It seems like Kisara’s a sassy drunk. Seto just takes a big gulp, letting the burn prepare him for the rest of the night. “I’m not kidding, that was my plan and I was in peace with it. But I won the third place on Pegasus’ contest and I won a scholarship, and although I’d accepted it, I wasn’t going to use it. But then everything went to hell and I saw my way out in that letter and, well, I took it.”

“You never told me you’d won.” And it hurts, it hurts knowing that Kisara kept for herself something she had put so much effort into, something that was important for her.

Kisara arches an eyebrow “Seto, you never cared about art. And to be honest, I never felt like I could tell you that sort of thing.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kisara’s eyes go wide as she panics “No, no, no, no don’t do that. Please, don’t you do that. You may feel bad about it, and you’re probably right, but please, in the name of everything that’s holy, don’t apologize.”

Seto nods, he knows that at this point it doesn’t matter, he knows it’s too little and too late.

The girl next to him sighs defeated “Seto, it’s not your place to apologize, I’m the one who fucked up, I’m the one who left you without as much as a see you later.”

“Why?” Seto had wanted to save that question for when they were more prepared, more drunk, but he just couldn’t keep it anymore. “Why did you leave?”

Kisara runs a hand through her hair “It’s my turn.” she says flatly.

“Kisara-”

“Seto it’s my turn.” The white haired girl interrupts him.

Seto rolls his eyes but signals her to proceed with a movement of his hand, his right hand busy holding his glass to his mouth.

Kisara nods “When did you and Jounouchi made peace with each other.”

Seto twirls the liquid on the glass “After Mokuba and I fought the mutt broke into my office and straight up punched me.”

“What?”

Seto can’t help but smirk at her confused face “He decided to ‘beat some sense into me’ and we fought until we were both bleeding. When we were out of energy he started to talk about brotherhood and dealing with stuff and then you and he wouldn’t leave me alone for the next week, he said it was to make sure I fixed things with Mokuba and all and somehow he almost moved into my house. He doesn’t spend that much time there anymore but we’re still in contact.”

There’s a part of Seto that actually takes a lot of pleasure at the fact that, for fifteen seconds, Kisara can’t do anything but gape at him. “Oh my God.” She says at last “So I leave seven years and the whole world turns upside down? Just wow.”

Seto looks at her expectantly “Why did you leave?” He reminds her when it becomes obvious that Kisara doesn’t remember.

Kisara’s tongue comes out to moisten her lips. She downs another glass and Seto wonders just how much can she drink “So, you remember the prom dance, right?” Seto nods “We had a great time, maybe not in the gym but” she runs a hand through her face “Seto, you have to believe me when I say that that night, watching the stars and just being with you, is to this day the happiest memory I have.”

“Hard to believe when you left the day after,” Seto says, hurt and anger dripping from his tone, the alcohol finally killing his filter.

Her face falls at that “I know, but it is the truth. Anyway, so after you left me in my house, well, things really went to Hell. I don’t really want to go into details, but let’s just say that, at midnight, when you drove me back, I was the happiest girl on earth, I planned on staying in Domino and just being with you, and then, less than eight hours later I was handcuffed to a hospital bed, I got informed I was going to have a sister, my mother was dead and my father was planning his wedding with Michiru, two guards stood in the threshold and my back was killing me. It was just too much, I couldn’t do it, I just couldn’t, I needed to get the hell out of that place and when I saw the acceptance letter in my nightstand I just launched myself to it. The moment the hospital let me out I took my stuff, threatened my father into helping me moving to this city and I just left.”

“And you never looked back.”

“I couldn’t. I knew that the moment I stopped to think about it, the moment I looked back I’d just cancel everything and jump off a cliff.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m not kidding, I actually tried it once, then again I was a little high, but damn if it didn’t sound good back then.”

Seto scowls at his glass “Why were you in the hospital, and why were you handcuffed to the bed?”

Kisara pointedly avoids his eyes “… What do you know about Takahisa and Shinji?”

Seto tries to go through everything that happened that month. The missing calls, the messages he left, all the voicemail he put into her phone to the point where it just forbid him from leaving more, the talks with Yugi’s gang, and the news “Takahisa left the city and Shinji spent two months in the hospital before going to jail, I never knew why, they said it was private. Takahisa either died or changed his name because I could never find him.”

Kisara nods “Shinji got stabbed in the stomach with a piece of glass, he almost died, Takahisa had a mental breakdown and I ended with twenty three shards of glass on various parts of my back,” she snorts. It’s a dark, unpleasant sound “And all of that before breakfast.”

“They attacked you.” Seto growls. It’s been a while since he’s felt this angry about something, anything at all.

“Yeah, it ended badly for everyone.” She eyes the empty jar, Seto can’t remember when did they finished it, but judging by how he feels, he drank almost as much as Kisara did.

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

Kisara fidgets with her hands, and when she talks her tone’s neutral almost icy “Seto I didn’t leave because of them. I mean yes, even going to Domino is kind of a trigger for me, but they weren’t the reason why I left. I didn’t want to be there and see how my mother’s killer got married and started a happy life with Michiru, who I considered a cheap whore back then.”

Seto frowns, confused “I don’t understand, wasn’t your mother dead when we met?”

Kisara puts the glass back in the table, her eyes unfocused “She was in a comatose, but she wasn’t dead yet. I was supposed to disconnect her but I was too much of a coward and my father did it so he could get married to Michiru. As I said before, all of this in the span of about seven hours.”

Kisara’s hands are smooth and small where they lay on her knees, they’re also trembling “So you cut all ties to Domino.” He states.

“I just wanted to forget about Domino, I didn’t realize that also meant you until it was too late.”

Seto frown deepens “What do you mean?”

Kisara sighs, slumping forward “I was hurt, I was angry and I was scared. Coming here meant adding lonely to that list and I spent the first months drowning in those emotions. It took me about four months to think ‘What the hell am I doing?’ and another three to gather the courage to contact Ryo. I knew that what I’d done was wrong but I didn’t know how much until he told me. I missed you a lot but I’m not stupid, I knew you wouldn’t forgive me and well, here we are.” Kisara’s looking at him through her eyelashes and Seto wonders, not for the first time this night, just how much did they drink. “You grew up nicely,” she says shyly.

“So did you.” And it’s true. Kisara grew into a stronger complexion, her face’s sharper but just as kind, her eyes have lost their naivety but not their warm. She’s even more breathtaking than she used to be.

When she smiles at him, it feels like all these years didn’t pass between them, like they’re eighteen again.

And Seto can’t help but lean to see her better. Kisara’s eyes were always a piece of art by themselves. They shone like diamonds, but were soft and warm. It was a mesmerizing sight in which he could get lost for hours.

Kisara draws patterns on his hand with her finger, her cheeks a deep red “Did you ever thought about me, Seto?”

“Every day, for three years.” He answers honestly.

Kisara’s eyes grow warmer “So did I. Every day.” A stray tear falls to her cheek “I’m glad you and Mokuba solved everything, and I’m glad things are going okay for both of us.” She sounds resigned.

“So am I.” Seto leans a little closer, Kisara’s breath tickling his lips.

“But just for one day, do you think we could leave all of that behind?” Her hand moves higher up his arm “And be just me and you, like we used to? Would you like that?”

“Just for one night.” Seto whispers, trying convince himself this won’t break them more.

“Yeah, just for tonight.”

“One more night.” It’s everything he’s ever wanted, closure, answers and to feel that velvety sensation of her skin against his again.

Kisara’s lips are tentative, the first kiss is almost chaste. It’s the rose-smooth feeling Seto had been missing. He leans on her, deepening the kiss. There’s the taste of alcohol and lemon and Kisara invading his mouth. God, how did he survive for so long without it?

One more night, just one last night, it’s all I need. Seto repeats to himself.

His resolve, his inhibitions, his weariness, it all flies out of the window the moment Kisara moans into the kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, I am way too sorry about the delay... I'm a fanfic reader myself so I know what is it like when a fic stays as a WIP forever and this was supposed to not happen since I had it all written... so yeah, Sorry.  
> Also, I love Kisara, it's awful that I had to do this to her, but I do love her.  
> Also, please check out the song in either Dodie's channel or her vevo, I love her, she's great and I felt like this song fit these two on these situations. Because lets face it, no one really know how to have a super healthy relationship in high school, not because everyone is toxic, but because communication is hard and takes time, and knowing yourself and maturity so yeah. Then again, the end isn't super healthy, either, but it happens, you know in life it happens, but don't worry, it'll get fixed, but before that, we get good, intimate and consensual sex that is a complete mistake at that exact time, but still, hopefully, hot...  
> And last, and hopefully least, sorry about the small Seto/Anzu, I feel like, if these two sat down and talked like civilized people, there would be attraction, but it was just a one night stand (and no, that doesn't make either of them whores, because sex can be fun and it happens), and they're still in good terms.

**Author's Note:**

> That was a little bit long (it gets worse).  
> I already have all of this written(it's also on my ff.net and I'll probably put it on Tumblr...) so, hopefully, I'll update it quickly.  
> Also, english isn't my first language and I'd apreaciate a lot if you could tell me about any mistake you spot.  
> Thanks for reading.  
> Love you.


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